


Nerf Guns, Mac n’ Cheese, and a Lesbian

by unstablehomosexual



Category: Hamilton - Fandom
Genre: 7/11, Baguette, Bread, British, Cat, Cats, Dogs, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Food, French, Future, Hamilsquad, How Do I Tag, Lams - Freeform, Lesbian, M/M, Memes, Mentions of Sex, Musical References, NYC, OC, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Swearing, Thomas Jefferson Being an Idiot, Useless Lesbians, Vines, Walmart, Washingdad, a sparkling smartass, and theres a random girl whos a redhead, don't know where this is headed, firstbook, friend, heyy, im making this up as i go, joke, like seriously a lot of swearing, mac n’ cheese, madison is so done with jefferson's bullcrap, more ships maybe, nerf guns, okay, peggy schuyler is awesome, poor college student, pop culture references, puns, random sex jokes because the characters are immature af, sarcastic, seabury is a cinnamon roll, so this is my first book, thank god, the main gal is french, theres a british boy, theres no descriptions of sex though, yay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:55:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 20,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21927805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unstablehomosexual/pseuds/unstablehomosexual
Summary: A tired lesbian with nothing to lose shoots Thomas Jefferson in the arm with a Nerf gun, and it goes downhill from there.
Relationships: Alexander Hamilton/John Laurens, Gilbert du Motier Marquis de Lafayette/Hercules Mulligan, Phillip Hamilton/Theodosia Burr, Thomas Jefferson/James Madison
Comments: 65
Kudos: 97





	1. Nerf Guns

**Author's Note:**

> Heyyyy so this is my first book so please be gentle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which she shoots Thomas Jefferson with a nerf gun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay this is my first work and please comment if you can i want to know how you feel about it

It's nice to know that when all else fails, mac n' cheese will always be here. This is why I am up at three am, stirring its cheesy goodness.

Looking to my right, it seems that my friend Hanna left her migraine prescription bottle thing at my house. Again. She stayed the night yesterday because she wanted to binge The Office again. She tends to barge in unannounced a lot, so I'm sure it won't be left in my possession much longer.

I've made the mistake of giving her the key to my apartment, so she might burst through the door in a little bit, screaming obscenities and most likely tripping because she never ties her shoes.

She likes to steal my food.

I don't have any college classes tomorrow, which means I'll most likely just spend my day sleeping in awkward increments like a Sim left unattended. I'll listen to musicals too, of course, because I'm trash and you can't honestly expect me to do anything productive.

Hanna recommended Hamilton, although I haven't gotten around to it. DEH, Heathers, BMC, and Les Misrables are my go-to ones.

Anyway, as I'm stirring the Mac n' Cheese with my headphones on, I see something in the corner of my eye. I'm a very paranoid person, so that means there must be a murderer in my house.

If you haven't guessed already, I'm not a brave person. I leave that courageous shit to Hanna.

I take off my headphones and set them on my shoulders. I'm a poor college student, though, so I can't afford the Spotify membership. I have to pause it in case a good song comes on. So long, Heather. Literally. Gotta love "Me Inside of Me."

Fun fact, before I had watched Heathers, I thought "Me Inside of Me" was about masturbation. Actually, that fact isn't fun and just kind of insanely disturbing. Sorry?

I grab my Nerf gun tightly and put my back to the wall next to the door to my living room, my Nerf gun pointed up. I hope that I look like a super badass secret agent, but I probably look like a scared nineteen-year-old girl.

My mac n' cheese is still in the pot. It's done cooking, so I turned off the stove, but I hadn't had enough time to pour it into a bowl. I suppose it will have to wait.

I gaze at it longingly. Soon, my love.

I probably would look cooler if I at least slicked back my shoulder-length frizzy black hair.

Then I hear some _very_ loud noises. It starts with loud crashing, and then people yelling.

"AAAAAAAAHHHH" Ah. Sounds like _someone_ didn't pay attention in Theivery 101.

"Who are you?" A second voice questions. Great, I'm going to have to deal with several murderers. This is shaping up to be a wonderful day. Or night, I guess.

"I'm Alexander Hamilton, how do you not recognize me?" Welp, I think I need to go back to sleep. What the actual sweet-loving hell.

"You don't look like him! Your hair is all different and stuff!" And apparently, they have a severe case of amnesia. This just gets weirder every second.

I decide to backtrack for a second. Hamilton? Has my house got broken into by cosplayers? Actually, maybe Hanna got them to come to try to get me into Hamilton. I've never seen her go to such extremes, but I can believe this. She probably couldn't afford it, but she could get Hayden to pay for it. He owes her anyway, after an _incident_ that happened last summer.

I go back to eavesdropping. The first voice, 'Hamilton', speaks up.

"What do you mean?"

There is silence. And then-

"AAAAH HOLAY SWEET JESUS MY HAIR IS BROWN"

"That's what I was trying to tell you, Alex."

"Well, who are you?"

"Laurens. John Laurens."

"OH MY GOD I'M SO GLAD TO SEE YOU!"

Then another thumping noise happens, followed by a voice.

"Uhhh, can you two stop making out and tell me where we are?" And a third guy. My Nerf gun only has four bullets. It can hold six, but I lost the other two. Anyway, I think I like this guy. Well, I like him if he isn't a murderer.

Alex sounds annoyed, and then confused. "We were _not_ making out. Besides, who are you?"

"How do you not know me?" The third guy almost sounds offended. "I'm Thomas Jefferson. You need not bow."

Thomas Jefferson? Never mind, I hate him. Mostly 'cause he was a slave owner. I mean, this is a cosplayer, so I shouldn't really hate him yet, I guess.

After "Jefferson's" little introduction, John and Alex burst out laughing. Serves him right. Suffer, bitch.

"What?"

"Well, uh, Jefferson, your skin is, hehe..." The man who Laurens called Alex seems to be having trouble getting words out. "Darker."

"What do you... AAAHHHH"

It just got better. Even if it's not real, it's good entertainment, I guess. I can't exactly see them, but their little conversation is funny enough.

The first two men burst out laughing again.

"I... I..." Jefferson seemed on the verge of tears. This is confusing. I mean, like, he was super racist, so it would make sense that he would be upset, but I've still never seen cosplayers go to such extremes. Then again, these cosplayers broke into my house, so maybe the crying isn't too weird.

Laurens started talking again. "So Alex, it seems all of our appearances have changed. I'm glad we still have our uniforms, though."

Six more crashes indicate the arrival of, you guessed it, a fuck ton of historical bastards.

Alex is the first to talk to them.

"Okay, give us your names. We all seem to look different now, so we need to know who you are."

"HERCULES MULLIGAN!"

I heard Hanna yell that several times before. She said it was a Hamilton reference, so I suppose that Hercules is from Hamilton, too. No surprise there.

"Peggy!"

"George Washington." Hey, there's another guy I know. Small world, right?

The next takes a deep breath. I assume he's going to yell his name as Hercules did.

"Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier, Marquis de Lafayette." Oh, fun. I remember Hanna talking about him. Wow, she's like my only point of reference here.

"Or, for those of you who don't know me, simply call me Lafayette." That simplifies things.

"Aaron Burr." Sir.

My dearest, Hanna has forced me to listen to Aaron Burr Sir too many times to count. Aaron Burr Sir and You'll Be Back are the only Hamilton songs I know completely. I remember a few key phrases from some other ones, like "HOW DOES A BASTARD, ORPHAN, SON OF A WHORE AND A SCOTSMAN-" and stuff like that.

This is when I decide to intervene.

I step into the living room. "So, did Hanna send you?"

The guy with a French accent, Lafayette, seems confused. Same, buddy. I was only listening before and didn't see what was going on, and Lafayette's voice is the only recognizable one because of the accent. It's pretty easy for me to understand him, though, because I happen to be a baguette also. Of course, I moved here when I was young so I don't really have the accent anymore, but sometimes it'll slip through when I'm nervous or I talk too fast.

"Who is Hanna? Oh, and who are you? I assume your appearance has been changed. Why is your gun strangely colored?"

"This is a Nerf gun." I decide not to answer the name question, mostly because all these people are breaking and entering. The man wearing purple seems annoyed, although I can't really see why he would be. Maybe constant dissatisfaction is just his thing.

"And you all are in my house." I finish.

"Well, girl, you can't own a house."

This guy is getting on my nerves. "Oh, and why's that?"

"Well, you must be a slave."

And that was the last straw. I raise my gun and shoot the purple boy. I'm not really sure where this burst of courage is coming from. I guess when the intruders are all wearing 1700's cosplay and one of them is easily taken down by a Nerf gun, they sort of lose any intimidation factors they might've had in the first place.

"AAAAAHHHHHHH"

A new man shows up and introduces himself as James Madison. Another founding father. Whoop-dee-fucking-doo. He walks over the still-screaming purple man. I don't really know why he's still crying, but you do you, brother.

"Madison, is that you? I can't see you!" He sobs.

"That's because your eyes are closed."

Purple ignores him. "Shhhh. The madwoman shot me! I'm dying!"

"'Madwoman' isn't much of an improvement from 'slave girl', so I suggest you shut your mouth before I shoot you again. Who are you, anyway?" 

Never have I felt so superior. I gotta say, being terrifying is fun. 

"Thomas Jefferson!"

"Really?" Even if this guy is just a weird paid cosplayer, Thomas Jefferson was an arrogant asshole. So, I do what anyone would. I shoot him three more times.

At this point, 'Jefferson' has given up the whole, "oh, death, pain, suffering" thing, because he's figured out that he isn't dying.

But still, I don't think he likes the fact that he's been shot four times.

"OW! That was uncalled for!"

"Your face is uncalled for."

"Why did you have to shoot me again? I told you my name, just like you asked me to!"

"Thomas Jefferson was a slave owner. So was James Madison and like half of the founding fathers, but we'll get to that later."

For some reason, Jefferson's anger is replaced with confusion. In fact, almost everyone seems that way. Guess not every cosplayer does their research. Maybe he's a college student that just jumped at the opportunity to get money. If so, I can relate. There is still the possibility that he isn't paid, though, because Hanna can get pretty much anyone to do favors for her, because she's shockingly terrifying for a short redheaded eighteen-year-old.

"First of all, why are you using my name is past tense? And second, I'm not a slave owner!"

"Yeah, you are. Right, Hamilton?"

At this point, I'm too tired to deal with this whole thing. I don't know their names, so I'm just going to call them by their weird criminal cosplay names.

"Criminal Cosplay" sounds like it could be a band name. I'm stowing that away for future use.

Hamilton frowns. "Actually, despite Jefferson being a total bitch," Jefferson sticks out his tongue like an actual five-year-old. "he doesn't have any slaves. Neither does Madison or any of us."

I raise an eyebrow. Actually, I don't know how to do that, so I raise both eyebrows.

"Dude, my fifth-grade history book could totally prove you wrong."

"Why would you need a history book?" The girl in a yellow dress asks. Peggy was the only girl name I remember being called out earlier, so that'd most likely be her. By the way, that dress doesn't look comfy at all. I feel for her.

"Because the people you all are pretending to be are dead."

This gets a strong reaction. 

I don't know exactly who says what, but some of the things I hear are like this:

"DEAD??"

"OH MY GOD, WE DIED IN THE WAR!"

"...pretending?"

"Wait what was that I wasn't listening." Hercules.

"I FORGOT TO BID MY MACARONI AND CHEESE GOODBYE!"

"Oh shit."

"Is this heaven?"

To sum it up, they kind of freaked out.

"Okay, okay. First of all, this isn't heaven, this is hell."

And by saying that, I made things worse.

"BUT THEN WHY IS PEGGY HERE SHE IS A LITERAL ANGEL"

"Aw thanks, Alex"

"HA HAMILTON I TOLD YOU I'D DRAG YOU DOWN WITH ME!"

"Where's all the fire?"

"I'm hungry."

That last one was me. Actually, I still have my bowl of Mac n' Cheese sitting on the stove.

So, like any normal person, I leave the screaming people to grieve their own deaths so that I could go get my food.

Surprisingly, it has only been a few minutes, so my lovely cheesy noodles are still warm.

I don't have enough money for good bowls or anything, so they are totally mismatched. I end up choosing a black plastic one with a green, smiling dinosaur on it. I'm pretty sure it's for little kids, but it's adorable and I love it.

I go over to the pot of steaming noodles and pour them into the little bowl.

And amidst all the chaos, I eat mac n' cheese.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyyyyy did ya like it? Hope ya did because the next chapter will be up soon.  
> I'm not great at keeping the present tense consistent so sorry about that


	2. Well I Guess I Adopted Some Historical Figures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Hanna enters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright so this chapter was fun to write not gonna lie

Watching people cry over their deaths can be entertaining. I eat my mac n cheese quietly, observing as Jefferson throws a shoe at Hamilton.

Mac n cheese is marvelous, although it doesn’t help that I am exhausted out of my mind. Staying up till 3 am has advantages, but not many. 

I stand up and walk over to the kitchen, rummaging through the pantry for the small bag of coffee grounds, my hand brushing over the various foods I have. Most of them are packages of mac n cheese, noodles, and ramen.

I love my noodles.

After searching for some time, the prolonged delay being partly because I forgot what I was doing halfway through my investigation, I pick up the half-empty bag of coffee grounds and begin to prepare my coffee.

And that’s when she arrives.

“YO BITCH, WHERE MY DRUGS AT?” Hanna is wonderful, but does she have to say drugs instead of medicine or something? It makes me sound like a drug dealer, and my neighbors hate me enough already. 

I sigh and gesture towards the orange prescription bottle. She snatches it up and grins.

“Thanks! Oh, and have you seen the Brit Boy? He owes me five bucks and I think he’s hiding from me.”

“Come to think of it, I haven’t seen Hayden. Did you check Walmart?”

“Nope.”

“You’ve been looking for him and haven’t thought to check where he works?”

She shrugs and looks through my pantry. "Do you have any pretzels?"

Just then, there’s a crash in the living room, along with more shouting. Come to think of it, I've almost forgotten that several terrified founding fathers (and Peggy) think that they’re in hell.

That sounds weird out of context. And in context.

Hanna raises an eyebrow as she closes the pantry, being unsuccessful in her search for snacks. 

“So… are you having a party that you didn’t invite me to or something?”

I sigh and down the rest of my coffee. Clutching my mac n cheese I gesture for her to follow me into the living room. I stop her right before we enter.

“Okay… so you just have to promise not to freak out too much, ‘kay?”

She shrugs. “Eh, okay. After seeing my dog somehow climb her way on top of the fridge to get to her jar of treats while also being dressed up as a frog, I don’t think that anything can surprise me anymore.”

I laugh in my hand a bit and then step to the side so that she can go into the living room. “Heh, we’ll see.”

She gawks at each of the people, taking a moment to register. And then: “OH MY FREAKING GOD I WAS WRONG. SO, SO WRONG.”

“...you good?”

She seems very not good. “DID YOU INVITE THE HAMILCAST OVER FOR MY BIRTHDAY OR SOMETHING?”

“Wait, it’s your birthday?”

“No, I’m VERY confused."

I laugh and offer her the rest of my mac n cheese. She accepts it.

Jefferson stops shaking poor James Madison back and forth and turns to look at Hanna and me. 

"Uh... who's she?"

"This is Hanna."

He looks down at the mac n cheese in her hands.

"Is that... mac n cheese?" He breathes, gaping at the noodles.

"Yes."

His eyes light up. "This isn't hell... this is heaven!"

Hanna cocks her head to the side. She leans over and whispers, "Yo, why would Daveed think that this is hell, or rather, heaven?”

Oh right, she still thinks that the entire cast of Hamilton is visiting me.

"Oh, so all of these people just kind of fell from the ceiling. I shot Jefferson with a Nerf gun. They claim to be the actual historical figures that they play in the musical, which means that they are either telling the truth, which is unlikely, or they're drunk or something."

Hanna nods, and then stands up and walks over to Jefferson, her long red hair majestically flowing behind her. "So, you're the 'real Thomas Jefferson'?"

"In the flesh."

"Well, if that's true..." without hesitation, the incredible warrior woman strikes Jefferson across the face. "That's for bein' an asshat slave owner."

Oh my god, I love her.

"I'm NOT a slave owner!" He whines, rubbing his cheek. I could be wrong, but he's probably tired of being accused of that.

"Really..?" Hanna is unimpressed. This is when I decide to intervene because she seems ready to kill a man, namely Jefferson.

I place a hand on her shoulder. She turns around to look at me, still fuming. "Uh, apparently this Jefferson is still a bit of a bitch but not a slave owner. He hasn't done anything like slavery or worse stuff that our Jefferson has." I pause to look around at all of the people who have stopped screaming to watch us. "Neither has the rest of them."

Hanna nods and then turns back to Jefferson, who flinches back as if she's about to pull out a gun and assassinate him. It's a reasonable assumption, considering all he's seen of Hanna.

What she does next, however, surprises me. She bends over and sticks her hand out to help Jefferson up.

"Sorry for punchin' you, bro. It seems you weren't as horrible as I thought you were."

"But I mean, he's still very hateable!" Hamilton pipes up. Jefferson scowls at him and then takes Hanna's hand, thanking her quietly. It seems a bit out of character for him to be thanking someone. Quietly.

"So, now that's all cleared up!" Hanna claps her hands together and grins. "What the hell are we gonna do about all of you?"

Hanna looks around the room again. A look of puzzlement overtakes her. She looks at Lafayette, and then at Jefferson. Back and forth. Grabbing Jefferson by the arm, she leads him to go stand by Laf and does the same thing with Madison and Hercules.

She stares at them a while longer. "So... how the hell did _this_ happen?" 

"What do you mean?" I ask. And then I see it. Laf and Thomas are close to identical, minus their hairstyles and clothes. It's the same with Madison and Hercules.

And by close to identical, I mean _very_ identical. Hanna told me about double casting, which means that somehow there are two versions of the same guys? It’s… confusing.

Hanna shrugs and lets them go back to where they previously were. Hercules and Lafayette go back to standing by Laurens and Hamilton, and Madison and Jefferson go to sit on the couch together. 

"Eh, that's a question for another time. So how did they get here again?"

"They sorta... fell through the ceiling."

She nods. "So... are we gonna adopt them or something?"

" _Adopt?_ " Washington seems utterly bewildered. "We are adults, and you seem to be teenagers!"

"Yeah! It's not like we can get you all fake IDs, so you're just gonna hafta stay with mah girl Chrysler here."

"Just for confirmation, you guys can't call me Chrysler. My name's Christelle, which sounds kind of extra, so you can call me Jesus Christ, your Lord and Saviour. Because of the like 'Christ' part in my name."

"What?" Jefferson asks.

"Chris is fine, too." I turn back to Hanna. "What do you mean, they're staying with me?" I hiss under my breath. "I barely make enough money to feed myself, let alone like eight people! You're the Hamiltrash, anyway!"

"C'mon, Chrysler! I'll get you extra money!"

"Why do you want me to keep them?" I notice that many of the people seem a bit ruffled over the fact that we're addressing them as if they're a litter of orphaned puppies we spotted on the street.

"You're apartment is bigger than mine!"

"Okay, you got me there, but it still isn't big enough to keep all these people, not by a long shot. And how do you plan on getting me money?"

She grins evilly. "Oh, I have my ways. Anyway, we should probably feed your newly adopted children."

"Still not children," Jefferson states, his tone dull. However, he can't seem to hide the excitement in his voice when he asks, "But, uh, what would we be eating?"

It's my turn to grin evilly. "I think I may have an idea."

-time skip brought to you by dogs dressed up as frogs-

"Macaroni and cheese?" Everyone says this in unison, which is kind of hilarious. Jefferson says it in the most excited tone possible, while everyone else is either terrified, about to faint, or ready to yeet themself into the sun. Or there’s Madison, who seems completely indifferent.

"You guys better eat it, because it's like the only food I own." This is untrue. I have many different types of noodles, as I mentioned earlier, but I'm too lazy to make more stuff so they're just going to have to suffer through this. "Suffer" may not be the right word for Jefferson, though, as he's already finished his first bowl and is asking for seconds.

A few people have taken hesitant bites. Some seem to like it, or at least not completely despise it. Soon, Hamilton is the only person who hasn't eaten any.

"So, Hamilton." I crouch next to him. "You are aware of the definition of the word 'eat', right?"

"Yes," he grumbles, scooting away so that he's as far away from his bowl as the walls of my house will allow.

"Well, just in case you need a reminder." I pick up a fork and then stab some noodles with it.

"Put this fork in your hand," I say. He does so, though reluctantly. "Now shove it down the damn hatch before I do it myself." (That sounded kinky not gonna lie)

I think that Hamilham may be slightly terrified of me, so he does so. He might like this mac n cheese a bit more than he lets on, but he's not one to admit to being wrong so he doesn't say so.

An hour or so passes, and I have to say that it's going decent. By this I mean no one has attempted to murder each other or anything. The closest to that was when Hamilton breathed too close to Jefferson and so they started yelling at each other.

The day gets even better (or possibly worse) when a royally dressed man falls from the ceiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oof its a bit of a cliffhanger but yeah
> 
> also i think that the rest of the characters will be introduced gradually instead of all at once
> 
> i'm not completely sure yet but we'll see. if you have any suggestions or anything then feel free to comment! seriously like comments make my day.
> 
> also i just want to say that the updates most likely wont be too frequent because school is starting again on Monday, which will suck. i'll still try to update at least once a week, though.


	3. British Royalty and Questions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> King George shows up and everyone asks questions about 2020.

The man stands up, brushing himself off. Everyone's eyes are on him as he looks around the room, growing more irritated as he realizes that most of the men are wearing American revolutionary soldier uniforms. 

"May I request a thorough explanation justifying my whereabouts in this rubbish heap?"

He seems to be making an effort to be very serious and all, but I can't help sniggering into my fist a little bit as he rants on and on in his snooty British accent.

I don't think he appreciates this. "Is there something amusing, girl?"

"Yeah, you."

Hanna, who was holding back laughter before, breaks out into an unending fit of cackling. Notice my word choice there. She never laughs, she always  _ cackles  _ like some mad witch.

If the fancy man was aggravated before, it's nothing to how much he is now. "Listen here, you foul bits of rubbish! I will personally behead your pitiful peasant selves if you don't silence yourself!"

Hanna is the one who attempts to stop her fits of laughter (sorry, fits of  _ cackling  _ ) first. "I... S-sorry your-your  _ highness  _ ." She has trouble getting the words out. That stuttering didn't come from fear or whatever, she's just too busy laughing to try to keep her voice steady.

"Hanna, who  _ is  _ he?"

Hanna is dying of laughter again, so Madison answers my question. 

"King George III, most likely. Judging by the clothes and... attitude. He could snap his fingers and all his men could come and behead you, so you might want to apologize."

"Ah, my dear Madison," I say, " _ What  _ men?"

He realizes what I mean. All of the Revolutionaries know... oh wait, they still think we're in hell. Well, Thomas thinks it's heaven, but I haven't told them that we're in the future.

Anyway, Madison knows that, well, the king doesn't have any men with him. Speaking of which, ol' Georgey still thinks that he can treat us all like garbage.

I walk up to him. "Listen, ya Burger King rip-off. You don't have any power here, so chill. I'm the queen, along with Hanna here."

"We're both queens? Does that make us married?"

"Nah. We just can share power I guess, like partners in crime," I say, hoping my blushing isn't too prominent.

"Cool beans." She gives me a thumbs up.

"ANYWAY!" I turn back to the king, grinning wildly. "You are roughly 220 years in the future. It is the year 2020. The horses are tired of being enslaved and have rebelled against humans. They've crowned themselves as rulers. Right now you all are in Neigh York City."

Laurens laughs. "HA! I knew it! Herc, you owe me a dollar!"

"We never made a bet!"

"It was an unspoken agreement."

** (Quick A/N- I read that one colonial dollar is equal to about $20.25 now. They might've called it something different, but yeah.)  **

Hanna laughs. "Oh, shut up, you two. Chris was joking, none of that's true, except for the year part."

"OH, HOW THE TABLES HAVE TURNED!" Herc shouts, whirling around and pointing at Laurens. 

"Uh... we never made a bet?" Laurens tries, grinning sheepishly.

"Nice try, pay up." Hercules laughs, holding his hand out.

"I don't have any money on me," John says, patting his pockets. He turns to Hanna. "May I borrow a dollar?"

Hanna shrugs. "Sorry man, I'm flat broke."

Laurens turns to me, grinning hopefully. I stop him before he can ask. 

"Nope."

"It was worth a try. Sorry, Herc."

"It's fine, you can just owe me."

"Well, back to the matter at hand," I cut in. " You guys can ask me whatever questions you want. I don't know a whole lot about politics, but I can try my best with those questions."

John is the first to question me. "Is slavery abolished?"

"Oh yeah, that happened way back," I think for a moment. "Mid-eighteen hundreds."

Laurens seems delighted, but I'm still not done. "Unfortunately, we weren't given full rights until almost a century later." 

Laurens' face falls. "But, you're treated like human beings now, right?"

"Yeah!" I'm about to tell him about our racist Cheeto president, but he seems so happy and I don't want to ruin that. "Any more questions?"

Burr asks the next question, which is surprising given that he doesn't seem to talk much. "What about women's rights?"

Peggy seems surprised that he's the one to say this. I kind of am too, I didn't expect him to be a feminist but here we are.

I gave him a thumbs-up, "Yep! We can go to college, get jobs, run for president and other political jobs like that, enlist in the army, wear comfy clothes, be treated as human beings. Good stuff." Just like Laurens was, Burr and Peggs seem overjoyed, so I don't tell them the... downsides.

"Oh right, and also there's the LGBT+ community, which I am a part of."

"What does it stand for?" Peggy questions.

"Glad you asked!" I said, clapping my hands together. "There is a LOT to go over, so y'all better be prepared."

-Timeskip brought to you by g a y. I assume you don't wanna hear her whole explanation, so yeah-

"- and  _ that  _ is how gay sex works!" I clap my hands together. "Any questions?"

Thomas raises his hand. "So... this is completely legal now?" He sounds almost hopeful. I also could have sworn I saw him glancing at Madison during my explanation of the gay.

"100% legal! Our dearest Obama made gay and lesbian marriage legal during his time as president."

Hanna raises her hand next. "Why did you do the gay sex explanation? Couldn't you've just explained what LGBT+ is and be finished?"

"I think that it was the king who asked how it works."

I take the time to stare sympathetically at King George, who has curled up into a ball in the corner of the room. Maybe I shouldn't have answered his question by doing a presentation with bananas.

Burr scoots over and waves a hand in front of the king's face. He gets no response, and just shrugs and goes back to where he was sitting before.

Washington raises his hand next. "Did we win the war?"

Everyone holds their breath as they await my response. I could easily just tell him right away, but I decide to wait like ten seconds to up the suspense.

"Yeah."

Everyone except for the King is overjoyed about this. Hanna teaches the dudes to fist bump. Hamilton tackle hugs Laurens, and the same happens with Lafayette and Hercules, as well as Jefferson and Madison.

I wait for everyone to settle down before continuing. "We elect a president every four years. If the president is good enough, they can be elected a second time. Eight years is the max, though. There's also different parties and all that shit. We're called the United States of America, or the USA."

"So, is it doing good?" Washington urges.

I shudder a bit, which I hope Washington didn't notice. "Ah... well, it's the world's top superpower." I think for a second. "It's because of the giant economy and advanced military."

Just like the Burr and Laurens situation, I don't tell Washington about how America is, ah, not admired. 

Hercules is next. "What's fashion like?" This gets a few sniggers, mostly from Jefferson. He shoots a glare in said purple boy's direction.

"Uh... most people just wear pants and shirts." I point at Hanna. "A bit like her outfit."

She's wearing an oversized hoodie and jeans. She's taken whatever shoes she had off, revealing her socks which have pictures of sheep on them.

"Dresses aren't nearly as common, mostly because they can be pretty uncomfortable, so women and men's fashion trends are usually similar."

"Is France doing okay?" You guessed it, America's favorite fighting Frenchman asks the next question.

"Yup!" I say, popping the p. "They have baguettes, so that's good. I read that they're the world's fourth top superpower, though the article I read it on is from 2011 so that might be outdated."

I'm actually from France. We moved to America for whatever reason when I was like four or something. Most of my family has moved back to Paris, but they left me here to finish university. 

I had a thick accent when I was younger, but it's almost completely gone now and it only comes back when I talk super fast.

Anyway, Lafayette seems pleased with the minimal facts I was able to provide about modern France.

"But... where are we now?" Madison asks, glancing around the room.

"My apartment?" I answer, the words coming out as more of a question.

Hanna facepalms. "Chris, I think he means like the city or country or whatever." Madison nods in confirmation.

"Oh!" My face lightens up as I walk across the room to the window. I pull the blinds up, revealing the gorgeous and light-polluted city.

Everyone gathers around the window, various gasps being heard as they stare unblinkingly at the city before them. "Welcome to New York City."

The king faints dramatically, even putting the back of his hand to his forehead as he collapses.

It takes a bit for people to register. Then the questions (and various exclamations) come rolling in.

"How is it so shiny?"

"Why are we so high up?"

"Where are all the stars?"

"I think I'm going to puke."

"What's that?"

"HOW IS THAT BUILDING SO TALL?"

"I might need some more mac n' cheese to process this."

"I WANNA GO HOME!"

After this last extremely loud exclamation, I hear someone pounding on my door. Silence befalls everyone as the knocking continues.

After no-one gets the door, whoever is knocking just starts yelling through the door.

"This is Janice." Ah yes, my mortal enemy. Also known as my neighbor. She's almost exactly like the Karen meme, except with blonde hair and instead of complaining to a manager she complains to me about everything.

She still complains to managers but that's not the point.

"Have you kidnapped someone? If you have, tell them to keep it down because they're waking up Daisy." Her kids sleep like rocks, but she also has this chihuahua named Daisy that throws up all the time and does that weird little-dog yap all through the night.

"YOUR DOG'S ALWAYS AWAKE, JANICE!" I holler, not wanting to get up and face Janice like a normal human.

"She is not!"

I know that this argument is going nowhere, so I just don't respond until she gives up and (hopefully) leaves.

"Well, now that that's over," I say, walking over to my kitchen sink.

I grab a glass from a cupboard. My British friend Hayden got this at a bar and gave it to me. He made me pay seven bucks for it and I have no regrets.

I fill the glass to the brim and then carry it over to the living room. Some of the water sloshes out as I walk over, but it stays in the cup for the most part.

With no hesitation, I pour the entire glass of water onto the passed-out King George's face. He gasps and sits up, immediately wiping his face off with his sleeves and trying to fix his dark brown hair so that it isn't falling out of his powdered wig.

He starts sputtering, cursing under his breath at me, calling me a "filthy rebel" and stuff like that.

"Anyway, did you guys tell me what year you were from?" I ask, ignoring KG's angry muttering.

"1781," Hamilton says. "September 28, to be more specific. The Battle of Yorktown was just beginning."

"Battle of Yorktown... why does that sound familiar?" I mutter to myself, but my thinking aloud is interrupted by, you guessed it, the Hamiltrash that I call my best friend.

"THE BATTLE OF YORKTOWN!" She yells. The way she says it suggests that she's about to start rapping. "1781! Monsieur Hamilton, Monsieur Lafayette! In command where you belong! How you say, no sweat!"

Hamilton and Lafayette perk up, being confused as to why Hanna is saying their names and, well, that.

"Is... she okay?" Lafayette asks, watching as she drops to her knees dramatically and pulls a hairbrush out of nowhere and starts singing into it.

"TAKE THE BULLETS OUT YO GUNS!"

"What?" Hamilton asks. Little does he know, he's only fueled her overstimulated, slightly terrifying rapping.

"T A K E T H E B U L L E T S O U T Y O G U N S !"

She raps the entire song. Most people seem very confused. Save for George Squared. King George is too busy pouting, and Washington seems to realize that the lyrics are actually about their victory and Hanna isn't just screaming nonsense.

Speaking of Hanna, someone just asked why she was yelling so non-stop, so naturally, she's started singing, well, Non-Stop.

She's just gotten to the part near the end, and I think she's about to spontaneously combust after trying to sing like eight different parts at once.

I must say that it takes quite a while to finally get her to stop, given that every time she finishes someone will make a remark that will lead to a new song for her to sing.

Long story short, the sun is already up when Hanna finally stops, and I think that everyone might want an... explanation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, you don't know how much it pained me to have Hercules say "Oh how the tables have turned" instead of "Oh HoW tHe tURn tAblES"
> 
> Anyway I hope yall like it
> 
> I know I mentioned in it that we currently have a Cheeto as president but I like just read that he's been impeached and I didn't feel like changing it
> 
> Anyway I'm pretty proud of this chapter 'cause I got 2100 words


	4. Hayden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> not much happens, but hayden arrives

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alrittteeeee
> 
> so they don't explain the musical a whole lot but that will happen in the next chapter

We've decided that the best course of action would be to get everyone to chill out first. Hanna thought I meant drugs when I brought this up, which was concerning.

We've gotten everyone to sit down on the floor in a weirdly distorted semi-circle. Some of them are sitting with their legs crossed, which gives off the impression that we're about to teach a kindergarten class their ABC's.

Hanna smiles somewhat mockingly. The reason is most likely that she notices the preschool aura that is radiating off of the full-grown adults sitting on the floor.

"Alright, class, today we're going to... uh..." She begins to laugh, noticing the pissed-off glares she's getting from several people that aren't too happy at getting addressed as children. 

"Chrysler, can you take over? I'm sorry, I can't-" She cuts off the end of her sentence with more snickering. I roll my eyes at her and teasingly shove her to the side, ignoring her complaints.

"ALRIGHT CHIRREN, FIRST THINGS FIRST: STAY OUTTA THE RAMEN NOODLE EXHIBIT, THAT'S A LOTTA SODIUM!" Wait, I was too focused on staying out of cheesy teacher mode and accidentally slipped into vine mode.

"Uhm, I mean." I pause for a moment and then just give it to them straight out (or rather GAY out because of lesbian) "There's a musical about Hamilton and Hanna says it's marvelous, although I haven't seen it so I can't confirm that."

I was about to go on when, you guessed it, chaos breaks loose, just like every other chapter.

Yeah, yeah, I'll get the flex tape.

I'm just about to stop Jefferson from throwing my favorite dinosaur bowl at Hamilton when I hear my phone's ringtone. It's You'll Be Back, which means that the person that's calling is-

"Hayden, why are you calling me so early in the morning?" Hayden is the only British person I know. Hanna and I met him in middle school. I remember that day fondly.

-haha yes, it's flashback time-

_Hanna and I were at this crappy school lock-in near the end of the 8th-grade year. Hanna had just bought a buttload of new pencils because her very last pencil, the dinosaur one she had gotten for her birthday from our history teacher a few months ago, had finally gotten lost._

_With her new pencils, we were comparing who could fit more on their face unaided by hands or whatever (we had to stick them in our mouths and ears and stuff)._

_Hanna was winning, having crammed eighteen of them onto her face. I would've won with thirty-two, but she said that it wasn't fair if I stuck them in my headband. So there I was, losing with only twelve._

_That's when we heard the cafeteria get quiet. We looked across the cafeteria we were at to see a blond kid approach the old 2000's karaoke machine. No-one had done that for a while, because we were all wimps and were too terrified to sing in front of everyone._

_More people used to do it when there were two microphones so you could embarrass yourself with your friend, but the second one got broken a few years before because some kid was headbanging to an old rock-and-roll song when they accidentally headbutted the microphone out of their own hands. I wasn't there, but I heard it was wild._

_Anyway, the kid goes up. Everyone's staring at him as he steps up onto the stage and picks up the microphone. He has on sparkly blue eyeshadow with his nails painted the same color._

_He picked a song, and then the screen behind him lit up, displaying the lyrics._

**_SOMEBODY ONCE TOLD ME THE WORLD IS GONNA ROLL ME_ **

_The cafeteria exploded, some people screaming in anguish, others in excitement, and some were screaming because everyone else was. Everyone was so loud, you couldn't even hear his singing._

_A few people, Hanna and me included, were singing along. It was utter chaos. Only half the staff were there to try to calm us down because a bunch of them had gotten bored and gone out for a beer or something. I'm not sure they were allowed to do that, but it was a crappy school so who knows._

_I knew that we had to befriend the sparkly all-star boy if it was the last thing we did._ _The blond boy finished the song, carefully placed the microphone back on the stand, and left the stage. A few of the well-known memers applauded him._

_Hanna and I knew that we had to befriend the sparkly all-star boy if it was the last thing we did._

_Hanna walked up to him, he called her "Weasley" because she's a redhead and he didn't know her name, she punched him in the arm, and that was the start of the weird, corrupted friend group that we are today._

-and scene-

Anyway, back to the matter at hand.

Hayden sounds slightly panicked over the phone. "Hey, um, someone fell through my ceiling and he said that he's from 1781. I bought him a 7/11 slushie and we're driving over now. He doesn't know what a car is."

Well, that's a lot of stuff to digest. Everyone except Hanna seems very confused as to what I'm doing, most likely because it probably appears to them that I'm having a one-sided conversation with a rectangle that I've pressed against my ear.

Hanna raises an eyebrow. It's an ability I wish I had. "You're talking to Hayden? What does he want?"

"He's having a similar situation to ours, except with only one dude. He's driving him over."

"Is it safe to put someone from the 1700s into a car?"

"Probably not," I said. Hanna nodded and picked at her fingernails.

"When's he gonna be here?" Hanna's question is immediately answered by the sound of my door being opened. I'm glad Hayden doesn't harshly kick the door in after unlocking it, unlike someone I know. 

However, he still feels the need to loudly announce his arrival.

"Good morning! I've brought slushies!" He pauses. "And a man from the 1700s!"

"Great. Was it a two-in-one deal or did you pay for them separately?" Hanna asks jokingly. The man that's standing next to Hayden is a redhead and is holding a cherry slushie. He looks incredibly nervous, as if we are all going to pull out pistols from our coats and kill him where he stands.

"Oh, I recognize you!" Hanna says, taking a closer look at the man, standing so close to him that their noses are inches apart. "You're Samuel Seabury!"

This gets a reaction from Hamilton, that reaction being an annoyed, loud groan. A similar response comes from Laurens, Mulligan, and Lafayette.

"So, Hayden, we may need your help with something," I say, scratching the back of my hand a bit and grinning.

"And what would that be?"

"Well, it isn't very normal for people to be walking around in revolutionary war uniforms and king outfits, is it?"

His face lights up, realizing what I mean. "So, if I'm understanding you correctly, you're requesting that I give this entire room of people..." his grin widens. "M A K E O V E R S ?"

Hanna nods. "Yeah, that's it. Should we take them to Walmart or something?"

"THEY WILL BE B E A U T I F U L!"

"Is he... quite okay?" Washington asks, giving Hayden a concerned dad look.

I wave him off. "Ah, don't worry, this is normal. Once he stops sparkling and staring off into space, we can go to the store."

After a few minutes, he regains his grip on reality.

And so the makeovers begin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alright! i know this chapter is pretty short and nothing happens really, except for the arrival of hayden and seabury, but i promise the next chapter will be better
> 
> like i swear this is half the usual chapter length
> 
> thanks for reading, ill see ya next weekend (or ill post this sunday if im up for it)


	5. Clothes Shopping Is Way Too Expensive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which they shop for clothes at Walmart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was only going to post one chapter, but hey we gotta three day weekend so i had time to write another

"So, how are we going to get to Walmart?" Hanna asks. 

We're standing in the parking lot of my apartment. Hayden shrugs.

"I don't know. A car would be the fastest, but..." He glances at the founding fathers and Peggy. "I'm not sure that would be the smartest option."

"Valid. However, the only other way would be to walk, and it's always best to do everything possible to avoid exercise." I counter. Hayden shakes his head at me.

"I disagree, but it would be easiest to take a car. We should take mine."

Hanna nods. "I agree, you have a mom van."

"I do not!"

"Believe what you want, sweetie." She pats his cheek and then climbs into the passenger seat. "Alright, everyone into the clown car."

"Car?" Hamilton asks, saying it slowly as if he has never heard of such a monstrosity, given that, well, he hasn't.

I sigh and open the door. It takes a while, but we manage to cram everyone into the vehicle. Some people have to sit on each other's laps. I'm squished against the window. The king isn't happy to be packed into the car like sardines, especially with peasants, as he calls us.

Now comes the fun part. Hayden starts the car, and everyone's response is immediate.

"OHHHH, WHY ARE WE VIBRATING?"

"I'm going to throw up."

"James, hold me!"

"Grow up, Thomas."

"Ow, ow, ow, you're sitting on my hand."

"Laurens, we're going to die!"

"OH MY GOD, WE'RE MOVING AND SITTING DOWN AT THE SAME TIME!"

"Like riding a horse!"

"What is wrong with this century?" Lafayette yells, hugging Hercules.

I shake my head. "It's a question I often ask myself."

We keep driving in the exact opposite of silence. Everyone screams whenever we turn or hit a speed bump.

Hayden beams. "Alright, everyone, we're almost here!"

"Didn't we just get in a few minutes ago?" Jefferson questions, seeming skeptical.

"That's the magic of cars," Hanna responds.

"It's a van, actually," Hayden corrects, turning the steering wheel a bit and pulling into a parking spot. "Well, we're here. You all can get out now."

Everyone does as he says. Lafayette immediately throws up near one of those giant poles with numbers on them that you use to find out where your car is parked. Jefferson probably would be judging Laf, but he's too busy crying. He staggers over to Madison, who looks as done as ever, and hugs him.

"Jaaaaaammeeeessssss," he wails while also crying on Madison's shoulder.

"Thomaasssssss," he monotones tiredly.

We wait for Thomas to stop crying and then we all walk into Walmart together, looking like some weird dysfunctional family.

"ALRIGHTY FOLKS, WELCOME TO WALMART!" Hayden announces proudly. He works here, as I mentioned before, although he has weekends off.

Hanna stares at Hayden, unaware of how he manages to act so energetic at seven in the morning.

"How is Walmart even open at such an ungodly hour?"

Hayden looks at her like she's stupid. "It's open 24 hours, dumbass."

"Hey!" I say, pretending to be mad at him. "Watch your language in front of the fucking founding fathers."

"Heh, alliteration," Hanna says. She pauses, thinking about something. "Wait, there aren't any Walmarts in NYC. How are we even here?"

Hayden puts his pointer finger to her mouth, shushing her. "Shhhh, plot convenience."

"Don't touch my face, bish!"

He sticks his tongue out at her.

"Jesus, why do y'all fight so much?"

Hanna shrugs. "We're opposites. He's British, I'm American. He likes chocolate frosting, I prefer chocolate bars. He likes pussy cats, and  _ I _ like-"

"Yeah, I'm gonna stop you right there." I put my hand over her mouth.

"I was gonna say dogs!"

Hayden shakes his head at us. "Well, anyway, let's split into groups!"

He then splits us into teams. I don't know who got who in their group, but I have Washington, Hamilton, Burr, and Lafayette.

Hayden continues giving directions. "Now, each of you historical people can pick out your clothing, but you will have either Hanna, Chris, or me making sure your choices are good." He sighs and looks at Hanna and me. 

"I trust neither of their fashion choices, but this will have to do," he says. "There isn't anything else I need to say, so good luck, and may the odds be ever in your favor." He tips his hat (which I hadn't noticed he was wearing before) to everyone and then disappears into some random clothing aisle with his group. Hanna does the same.

Now, I am alone with my group. Yippee.

"Alright, gang." I stop right there, realizing I sound like an over-enthusiastic dad who's volunteering at a school field trip.

"Uh, let's look for pants first." I have only guys in my group, so we have to go over to the men's section. "Uh, I have no sense of fashion, but I guess I'm just here to make sure you don't wear striped purple pants with plaid or whatever."

I let them wander around, and it goes well, for the most part. Washington gets mostly button-ups and stuff, which suits him. I just get most of them jeans because jeans go well with everything. 

I'm about to call Hanna and Hayden to ask where we should meet up when we're done when I hear the distinct sound of fangirling.

I whirl around to see two boys who seem to be the source of the fangirling. They're wearing Hamilton shirts. I was worried this would happen.

"Oh. My. God. Is that Lin Manuel Miranda?"

"Dude. Dude. Look at who he's with!"

"Christopher Jackson! Oh my god, Leslie Odom Jr. and Daveed Diggs too!"

"Bro. Daveed was my first crush, like, ever!"

"Brooooooo, me too!"

"Who is that girl that they're with?"

"No idea."

"Guys, can you chill?" I ask. They seem thrilled and terrified that I've acknowledged their presence. They don't know me, but I suppose they think I'm someone important, given who I'm with.

"Uhm, sorry, just..." The first guy trails off.

"Can we have a selfie?" The second dude finishes his sentence.

I shrug. There's no harm. "Sure. I'll go wait over here."

That's when I remember that these people have no idea what selfies are, let alone how to take them. "Just... smile at the glowing rectangle. Like someone's painting you."

The two boys look confused at my advice. I grin nervously. "It's an... inside joke."

They nod and then the second one pulls out his phone. He's moderately tall, so he's able to get everyone into the picture. He takes the photo, and it seems that everyone understood my instructions. They look a bit awkward, but it works.

The two boys thank us, and then they're on their way.

"Well, that was less of a train wreck than it could've been," I say, pulling out my phone to text Hanna and Hayden on our group chat.

** [French Fry] Yo were done shopping **

** [French Fry] Where do u wanna met **

** [French Fry] *meet **

** [Sparkle Sparkle] Your texting grammar is awful. **

** [Weasley] Says the 1 who ueses pinctuaton **

** [Sparkle Sparkle] You're even worse, miss "pinctuation" **

** [Weasley] *pinctuaton **

** [Weasley] without the i **

** [Weasley] is what I said **

** [French Fry] Can u geysers chill **

** [Sparkle Sparkle] >:( **

** [Weasley] Lets meet by teh car **

** [French Fry] k **

** [Sparkle Sparkle] Sure. **

As I'm putting my phone away, I notice the people I'm supervising seem to be having a conversation. Y'know, like how people do.

"So, Alexander, you have a 'musical' about you?" Burr says, sparking up the conversation.

"It seems to be so. 'Musical' isn't a popular word, but if I'm correct, it's similar to a play of sorts?" Hamilton responds, making slight hand gestures as he talks.

Lafayette nods. "I believe so. We could ask, ah, Christelle about it."

I sneak up behind Lafayette. "It's Chris," I say, butting into their conversation and scaring the living daylights out of Lafayette.

"And yeah, musicals are like plays except, like, musical, ya know?"

"So Alexander has one about him? That doesn't surprise me, he is an overachiever," Burr laughs a little.

I snort. "Ain't that the truth."

"I've been meaning to ask," Washington says, "What were those two boys talking about? They referred to us as different names than our own."

"You guys look like the people who act as you in the play. It's weird to think about, given that we could probably run into them anytime, and that's a paradox waiting to happen."

"Paradox?" Lafayette asks, cocking his head to the side.

"It's a theory or philosophy that questions something and makes it more complex, in a way," Hamilton explains.

"Yeah. So like, because you look the same as the Hamilcast, you technically are the same people on the outside, I guess, so someone might spontaneously combust," I say. Everyone seems a bit terrified, possibly because I said they might explode.

"Uh, in theory. You probably won't explode," I reassure. "Anyway, we should pay for this stuff and then we can go meet Hayden and Hanna at the car." I pull the money Hayden gave me from my pocket. It's a few hundred dollars, but he said that he didn't mind sharing it. His family is kind of rich.

Sadly, all the self-checkouts are taken and there's a long line, so we'll have to go to some actual cashier.

I go up to the shortest line, which only has one dude that's buying a lot of potatoes. Like, twenty bags of potatoes. It's worrisome. Lafayette seems mesmerized by the red beeping scanner thing.

I hand the huge wads of clothes to the cashier. She seems unfazed that several people in revolutionary war clothing are buying an entire wardrobe. She's just like "beep beep motherfucker" and, might I mention, very experienced in scanning stuff. 

It's a bit of a sad hobby to have, but this is coming from someone who's explicitly skilled at checking someone's id in two seconds flat, so I won't judge. I suppose it can be beneficial, given that I work at a 7/11.

"Alright, ma'am, that'll be $395 even."

I swear I heard one of them  _ squeak _ . I think it was Lafayette because he just passed out. Then I remember that this would be equal to around eight thousand dollars in their time.

"Hey, is your friend good?" Cashier Lady asks, leaning to the side to get a better look at Lafayette.

"Yeah, he's fine. $395 is just equal to, like, thousands of dollars there he comes from. He's understandably freaked." I hand her Hayden's money and she gives me five bucks in return. Washington picks Laf up and swings him over his shoulder because he's a dad.

We walk through the automatic doors. They seem to startle everyone, even though they knew this would happen because they went through the same doors on their way in. I'm not sure why I mentioned that. How else were they supposed to get in, through a window?

"Hey, Chris. What happened to Lafayette?" Hayden asks.

"He freaked because I spent $395 on clothes," I say. 

"Ha, so did Jefferson." He points at said five-year-old who is leaning on James, looking dazed.

"Oh, speaking of which-" I hand him the five dollars that I got in change. He denies it.

"Nah, keep it. I don't need it."

"Oh, thank you for your generous donation to the poor. I could pay for my college subscription and have money to spare." I swoon, placing my hand upon my forehead.

"Keep that up and I'll be taking it back."

I gasped dramatically and held the money to my chest. Hanna thinks for a minute.

"Wait, backtracking for a sec, did you say 'college subscription'?"

"Yes. Don't mock my vocabulary just because it's superior to yours." I deadpan jokingly.

"Anyway, we're going to my place, because it's less trashy than both of yours," Hayden declares, clapping his hands together.

"Hey!" Hanna and I both say in unison.

Hayden shrugs. "Hey, I can't apologize because it's true."

"Then stand, Alexander. Weehawken. Dawn. Guns. Drawn." Hanna glares theatrically.

Hayden smirks. "You're on."

Then they both start singing in unison, everyone growing increasingly bewildered.

"I have the honor to be your obedient servant!"

"A dot Ham." Hanna does a flaunting gesture with her hand and a slight twirl.

"A dot Burr." Hayden copies the motion Hanna does.

There's silence, which dissolves into laughter. They stop for a second, staring at each other, and then burst out laughing again.

After this goes on for about five minutes, I punch them both.

"Alright, you two are absolutely hilarious. I mean, you've got everyone in tears from laughing so hard." My voice drips with fake sarcasm as they survey the people who are _ so clearly _ dying of laughter. "But like seriously we're getting weird looks from moms and I don't want to be banned from Walmart, so maybe you guys could yeet your pathetic selves into the car so we can go home and sleep."

"Ouch, that hurts right here." Hanna whines, putting her hand to her chest. "Why ya gotta be such a killjoy?"

"It's only because I love you. Now hurry it up."

"Really?" She says affectionately. "You wuuuuve me?"

"Shuddup and get in the car." I open the passenger door of the van and push her inside.

"Jerk!" She yells as I'm about to close the van door.

"Redhead."

"How uncreative."

"It's more creative than 'jerk'"

She sticks her tongue out at me. I shut the door on her.

"Alright, everyone into the van," Hayden shouts, climbing into the driver's seat.

"Awwww, not the death machine!" Jefferson, who's now awake, complains.

"Shut up and stick yourself in," Hayden yells.

"That's what she-" Hayden puts his hand over Hanna's mouth before she can finish, like usual.

And so, our dumb little family heads home to Hayden's. Hooray?

Heh, alliteration.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think i should get started on my hw


	6. Hayden's House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They go to Hayden's house. In case you didn't get it from the title.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright! I don't think I posted last weekend and I'm super sorry bout that. I had a history project due and like i had two weeks to do it but i decided to procrastinate and so i ended up doing it all one day before it was due
> 
> OH AND BTW - I wanted to thank CursoryG for commenting on every chapter of this! like thanks so much dude, and to everyone else who has commented and left kudos and stuff
> 
> ANYWAY HERE YA GO

Hayden is RICH. He isn't exactly humble about it, but it's not like he lives in a mansion. He lives in an apartment, which looks cheap on the outside, and even his furniture is pretty modest.

The biggest giveaway hinting to his discernible wealth is all the money he's spent on forming an actual shrine to his cats. He has cat condos, expensive kitty litter and toys, half-opened bags of treats of various meat flavors scattered across every flat surface. There are a few framed photographs from when he hired a professional photographer to capture pictures of his cats and him.

My personal favorite is the extravagant oil paintings of his cats created by well-respected artisans, complete with ornate golden frames. Of course, there are cats here and there. He's had to glue pots and jars to tables, so his cats don't slap them into the abyss.

His house is chaotic, to put it briefly.

Me, Hanna, and Hayden are the first to step into the house. I've been here a thousand times before, but I still feel somewhat startled when a dark brown cat launches himself at my shoelaces and ferociously chews on them as he grasps them between his paws.

This cat is my favorite, partly because of his name. Hanna was the one who named him, and Hayden still shakes his head whenever the cat's name is called, muttering about how he never should've given Hanna naming rights.

"Ohhh, hewo Mister Purr!" she picks him up and boops him on the nose, detaching his claws from my shoelaces, much to his displeasure. Mister Purr sounds like an innocent enough name, right?

Everyone files into the apartment, bewilderment creeping its way upon their faces. While everyone admires (and criticizes) Hayden's questionable taste, Burr notices Hanna calling the cat "Mister Purr."

"His name is... Mr. Purr?" He asks, examining the cat that's struggling to break from Hanna's grip.

"Oh, that's not his full name," Hanna replies, her face lighting up. "Hayden, why don't you tell Mr. Burr the name of  _ your _ cat?"

She puts extra stress on that word, as if Burr needs a reminder that the cat does indeed belong to Hayden. Hayden scowls at her, picking up the fat orange cat known as Buttercup.

"His name..." his anger melts into embarrassment. He hides his face in the fat cat's fur.

"C'mon, then! Burr asked you a question!" Hanna teases, pushing his shoulder lightly.

"Really, it's fine, I don't need to know-" Burr is cut off by Hanna.

"NAH! You cool, bro." She wraps her arm around said man, who's growing increasingly uncomfortable. "So, Hayden, go on."

"No."

Hanna gasps dramatically. "Hayden, you're making Burr sad!" Burr doesn't look sad at all, just very awkward.

"I'm really fin-"

"YOU'RE COMMITTING BULLYISM, HAYDEN!" She screeches, looking like she's re-enacting the Smudge the Cat meme, except as the yelling lady. "WE DON'T SUPPORT BULLYISM IN THIS HOUSEHOLD!"

Hayden hugs his cat tighter. "But it's my house!"

"TELL HIM THE DAMN CAT'S NAME OR I'LL DIP YOUR FINGERTIPS IN NAIL POLISH REMOVER!"

"Oooooh," I say, putting my hand over my mouth like one of them gossipy popular Tik-Tok girls.

Hayden shakes his head. "That's just low, man." Hayden is a prideful man, but he would never do anything to abandon whatever sparkly nail polish he happens to be wearing. Today it's red. He goes over to the cat that started this whole argument and picks him up. Dropping the other one in the process.

"The cat's name is..." his voice transitions into a mumble. By now, he's caught the attention of pretty much everyone except for Jefferson, who's trying to place a skinny, long cat upon James's shoulder.

"Ah, speak up please," Hanna proposes, no hint of regret in her voice.

"... Aaron Purr." He mutters, loud enough for everyone to hear.

This, as you may have guessed, receives diversified reactions.

"Awwwwwww."

"Intriguing."

"Cute."

"THIS IS THE HIGHLIGHT OF MY DAY!"

"Why didn't you name him after me?"

"Ohhh, like a pun!"

"PFFFFF, YOU NAME HIM AFTER THE MOST BORING, OPINONLESS-" Hamilton is cut off by Hanna karate-chopping him on the head.

"DON'T FUCKING BULLY THE CINNAMON ROLL!"

"What does that mean?"

"You're precious," I answer Burr's question. He clams up, probably because he's never been called precious before.

Hayden looks around the room, pulls a FUCKING AIRHORN out of his pocket, and presses the button thing on the top.

"ALRIGHT, EVERYONE! WE'RE GOING TO DO WHAT WE CAME HERE TO DO IN THE FIRST PLACE!" He smirks in satisfaction. "MAKEOVERS!"

Jefferson is the first. Hayden puts him in a purple tank top, leather jacket, and black ripped jeans. Washingdad wears only dad shirts, and Lafayette found this sweater with a picture of a baguette.

Laurens and Hamilton wear similar things; random geeky t-shirts that Hanna found for them.

Hercules has a leather jacket similar to Jeffersons, except his is more of a brownish color. It has a patch with a QR code that leads to the Rick Astley - Never Gonna Give You Up Video.

Burr wears only baggy sweatshirts and stuff like that, which is the same case for James. Peggy has a yellow crop top with capris. 

Samuel is wearing super baggy clothes, still chewing on the straw of his slushie.

King George is still wearing his king outfit because whenever we try to convince him to wear something else, he throws a hissy fit.

Alright, now that the awkward fashion montage is over, let's get back to the story, I guess.

"You all are moderately fashionable, which is good, I guess." Hayden sighs. He's holding Buttercup again. "So what are we going to do now?"

Hanna checks her watch. "It's almost noon, why don't we go get some pizza or something for lunch. I'll have to go home after that, though. Study for finals."

"Pizza sounds good." I nod. "Oh, I actually almost forgot you were still in high school."

"Don't rub it in, I just got held back junior year. You aren't that much older than me." Hanna shoots back.

"Yeah, yeah, Hanna's smol, but let's eat! I'm hungry." Hayden groans.

-One very loud car ride later-

"I'll have, uh, three large pepperoni pizzas, please. And a coke for each of us." I say nonchalantly, not bothering to look at the menu.

"Water for me!" Hayden reminds me, raising his hand a bit. "You think three pizzas will be enough?"

"Sure as hell hope so," Hanna says, slouching and scrolling through her phone.

"Ah, excuse me, is Pepsi okay?" The waitress asks, clutching her notepad nervously.

Hanna looks personally offended. "Did you just ask-"

Hayden cuts her off. "Pepsi's fine."

"Hayden!" Hanna whisper-yells angrily.

"What, it's not like they taste any different."

"Why, you-" I hold Hanna back so that she doesn't strangle Hayden with her bare hands.

"Git yo hands off me, it's illegal for him to have an opinion that is different than mine, and therefore a wrong one."

"I like her," Hamilton whispers to John, who nods.

"I'm surprised you referred to it as an opinion, instead of pure fact," Hayden remarks, clicking the pen that he always keeps on him.

"Are you admitting that you're wrong?"

"No, just saying that you're being out of the ordinary."

The waitress arrives with the drinks, passing them out.

"What... are they?" Jefferson asks, stirring his with a straw.

"Pepsi," Hanna says, guzzling hers. "Just drink some, it's good." She pauses for a moment. "Not as good as Coke, though," she adds as an afterthought.

Jefferson takes a sip of Pepsi and immediately backwashes it.

"Gross, Jefferson," I say, glancing over to Hanna.

"It's so... carbonated!" Jefferson cries, pushing his away.

"That's the point," Hanna says and then punches him in the arm because she's in love with unnecessary violence.

"Anyone else have a problem with it?" Hanna asks, one eyebrow raised. It's weird, just a moment ago she was complaining about how Pepsi wasn't as good as Coke. 

Everyone slowly sips their sodas, not wanting to face the wrath of Hanna. Some recoil in disgust, although a few seem to not entirely hate it.

And then, the pizzas arrive. Hayden gives everyone a piece.

"Why is it so greasy?"

"What's the deal with the round meat slices?"

"It smells good, I guess."

Samuel Seabury pats the grease off the pizza with a napkin, and proceeds to pat until there is no pizza left. 

Laurens and Mulligan seem to like it, which is cool. Some people finish quickly, but it takes Seabury like 45 minutes to finish his.

Alas, we all pile back into Hayden's clown car in the end.

"So, where do you guys wanna go?" He asks, pulling out of the parking lot.

"My house. I wanna beat everyone at Uno," I say, elbowing Jefferson for no reason other than to annoy him.

"Aw, you aren't even that good!" Hanna whines.

"I beat you six times in a row."

"That was deadass dumb luck and you can't convince me otherwise."

"Do we even have enough Uno cards for everyone?" Hayden asks, making a left.

"We can combine stacks. Chris has, like, three," Hanna reminds him, "Now let's hurry, I'm gonna beat Chris at Uno so fucking awesomely and you will all bathe in my awesomeness and Hayden can spray champagne on me."

(Spoiler - She doesn't beat me. I AM UNDEFEATED! HA!)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so anyway i'm not sure how i feel about this chapter. it was kinda blander than the others and like half the normal length (that's what she said) but thanks for reading anyway


	7. Uno and Urban Dictionary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Uno is finished, and they have some fun with Urban Dictionary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehehehhehehhehehehee

"HA! Chris, I told you I'd beat you!" Hanna plays a draw two card, saying Uno shortly after. It's our nineteenth game, and she hasn't won yet. Hayden has a champagne bottle, prepared to spray it on whoever wins.

"You wish," I say super awesomely, and lay down my last card, which is a draw two card also.

The crowd goes wild. Hanna lays on the ground, defeated. Mulligan, who was betting on me, demands money from Lafayette, who doesn't have any. Hayden accidentally sprays champagne on Thomas, who is too busy being amazed by my awesomeness to care.

Hamilton throws confetti in the air. I'm not sure where he got it, but it fits the mood, so who cares. Even George Squared seems excited, though the king doesn't show it. Laurens shoots Nerf guns at the ceiling.

"Noooo," Hanna moans, forsaken, forlorn, desolate, reaching her hand in the air. "I was so close! I had victory in arms reach, and you snatched it away."

"I can't take it from you if it wasn't yours to begin with."

"Why ya gotta be so rude~" she sings dramatically.

"Don't you know I'm human, tooooo," Hayden adds.

"What is this, 2013? If you guys keep singing, I swear I will yeet myself into the abyss."

"What is a... yeet?" Laurens asks, climbing down from the coffee table and placing the nerf guns on the floor.

Hanna places a hand on his shoulder. "You have much to learn, my smol turtle friend." She leads him to a computer. "It's Urban Dictionary time, folks."

"Oh dear god, not Urban Dictionary." Hayden puts his face in his hands.

"It's time they knew, amigo," I add, joining everyone crowding around the computer in awe. He reluctantly comes with me.

"Everyone, this is a computer. You can type stuff using the buttons with letters on them into a search engine, and it'll, like, give you results," She explains, "For example-"

She types "dog" into Google and clicks on the images tab. "As you can see, I typed 'dog' into Google, and it showed me pictures of dogs. Laurens, you try. Type something into Urban Dictionary, and then hit the enter key once you're done."

Naturally, Laurens slowly types 'yeet', and hits enter. Hanna applauds at his success, me and Hayden quickly following.

"The top definition is, 'To discard an item at a high velocity.'" He says, squinting his eyes as he reads.

"Yup, pretty much," I nod my head.

"Assuredly, quite accurate," Hayden confirms, nodding also.

"Why do you talk like that?" Hanna asks, laughing a little.

"I beg your pardon?" He says, placing a hand on his hip, tilting his head to the side, and raising an eyebrow like a disappointed mother that doesn't believe one word you said.

"Ah... nevermind," Hanna says, her teeth gritted. As she walks off to see what Laurens is typing, I hear her mutter, "His mother aura is astounding" under her breath.

Seeing Laurens type is funny. He does that thing that old people and little kids do where he sticks his tongue out a little, squints, and taps the keys with his pointer fingers only.

He's typed "turtles" into Urban Dictionary, which is very in-character for him.

"It says... 'I like them' as the definition," he reads carefully. He sits back in the chair, thinking. "Oh, I know what I should search!"

He goes back to tapping at the keys, still using only his pointer fingers, except a little bit faster this time. I peek over his shoulder to see that he's typed 'John Laurens' into Urban Dictionary.

"So the definition for my name is-" He pauses, his eyes scanning the screen over and over. "Gay. John Laurens is relatable, he's gay and dead."

"If I remember your presentation earlier, gay means a man that is attracted to other men?" Hamilton says in more of a question than an answer.

"Yep."

"Interesting," Hamilton replies, not commenting any further. "We should search for some more names. Do mine!"

Laurens complies. "Alright, so it seems that the top definition for your name is just lyrics from the, uh, musical."

"Of course. Is that all I'm known for?"

"Eh, pretty much. You're lucky you're remembered at all, if there weren't a musical most people wouldn't be very invested in your life," Hanna remarks nonchalantly, scraping dirt out from under her fingernails.

It takes a moment for that to sink in. I guess it would be sobering to find out if a single person hadn't sung about your life, people wouldn't even care about your existence. Huh.

"Well, uh, I think we should search Burr's name next," Hamilton suggests.

"Why me? You said yourself how uninteresting I am-" Burr is cut off by Hanna's sudden yelling.

"NO SWEET CHILD DON'T LET THE BULLY MAN GET TO YOU YOU'RE BEAUTIFUL AND AWESOME!"

"Uhm..." Burr is just kind of used to her by now.

"Alright, Burr, I've searched your name," Laurens announces, leaning closer to the computer to get a better look. 

"What is it? What does it say?" Burr seems anxious.

"'The damn fool that shot him.'"

Silence settles over the room for a while.

" _Shot_ him? Who? Did Burr kill someone?" Thomas finally asks, his arms crossed across his chest.

Me, Hanna, and Hayden share a look. I may not have seen the whole musical, but I know what Burr did.

"Uhm... shoot is now a word that means, uh, hug."

Burr seems relieved. "So I... hugged someone? But how is that such a significant event that it's recorded?" He pauses. "Laurens, can you look at the second definition?"

"Sure. Uh, how do I do that?"

"Oh, do you see that oval thing that's next to the keyboard? That's a mouse. There's a scroll thing in-between two of the buttons, you just need to put your finger on that and move it down."

Laurens does so. "So, the second definition. It says, 'A man that had everything he loved taken away from him.' Not a good start."

He looks around.

"Well, is there more?" Burr asks, "Anything mentioning the... shot?"

"Yes, um, 'Had his one shot at becoming president ruined by someone he later-'" Laurens pales, staring wide-eyed at the screen before him.

"What is it?"

"Oh, please tell me I just hugged my enemy and we had coffee together and we all lived happily ever after," Burr mumbles softly, not speaking to anyone in particular. Maybe just to himself.

Laurens takes a deep breath. "'-someone he later shot to death in a duel. A villain made by life.'"

Silence. And then-

"...oh shit."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welp, here it is. a little late, but still here.
> 
> anyway, what do you think is going to happen? hehehe i love cliff hangers.
> 
> sorry this chapter is exceptionally short. i feel like ive been apologizing for that in particular quite a lot, actually. seriously though this is only like 1100 words lol
> 
> but like for realsies i hope yall liked it


	8. Valentines Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3

"ah yes, the day of heart" Hayden nods.

"HEARTBREAK" Hanna screams

owo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no this isn't a real update
> 
> the next one will be up tomorrow
> 
> or maybe in a few hours if i can
> 
> luv u


	9. Burr-ito

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pretty much chaos. Nothing out of the ordinary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so burr kinda freaks out cos he found out he killed someone but i wouldn't consider it a panic attack
> 
> still thought i'd put this here just in case
> 
> BUT ANYWAY I HOPE U LIKE THIS CHAPTER ITS 1257 WORDS

"I don't understand, why would Burr _kill_ someone?" Laurens is pacing back and forth nervously. "He's too quiet and reserved to be a murderer."

"I don't know, quiet and reserved sound like murderer traits to me," Hamilton responds.

"Plus, the dictionary clearly stated that he only killed the man because he ruined his entire life," Hercules adds.

Burr is unsettled, to say the least. We've supplied him with several blankets, and now he's on the couch in his blanket burr-ito, staring off into space.

"But, the question must be asked, _who_ did he kill?" Jefferson is leaning against the wall like an antagonist on a detective movie that's about to start monologuing. All he's missing is a trench coat and a cigarette. "Well, seriously. We can't judge him until we know who he killed," Jefferson continues, shrugging slightly.

Madison nods. "Yes, I would like to know, too." Then, big surprise, all eyes turn to us. Us being me, Hayden, and Hanna. "Well, who did Burr kill?"

"Uhhh, the dictionary never said he killed anyone, only that he shot someone! Heh..." Hanna sweats nervously.

"Nice try. The dictionary said he shot the guy to death." Jefferson seems unamused. 

"Welp, no backing out of this one, compadre. 'Twas nice knowin' ya. Bury me in full battle armor," I sigh, taking a step back.

"Oddy specific, but okay," Hayden shrugs.

"When the zombie apocalypse comes, I want to be the one zombie they can't kill, because armor," I explain.

"I have no idea what zombies are, and I don't want to know. Now, answer our question." Jefferson deadpans. Hamilton nods in the background, which is weird. It's, like, illegal for Hamilton to agree with Jefferson.

"Okay, fine." Hanna sighs in defeat. "We'll tell you, just back off first. You look like you're about to all pounce on us and tear us to shreds before turning us into sacrificial offerings."

They don't seem amused.

"Uh, Burr killed..." She pauses, looking around. Everyone is leaning forward, eager to hear what she has to say.

"... Burr killed the ham sandwich."

"What's a sandwich?" Burr asks. "And I know I killed a person, and 'ham sandwich' doesn't sound like a person."

"A sandwich is meat or veggies or whatever smooshed between two pieces of bread," Hanna replies. "Oh, and 'Ham Sandwich' is a nickname."

"' Ham Sandwich' doesn't sound very intimidating," Jefferson says in utmost suspicion.

"Well, how do you know it's supposed to be a scary nickname? You call me Jemmy sometimes and that's quite the opposite of intimidating," Madison counters, crossing his arms.

"Well, me calling you Jemmy is different! It's a friend nickname," Jefferson explains impatiently, "Think about it. This guy was horrible enough to ruin Burr's entire life, and also could be considered an enemy by him."

Meanwhile, Hanna, Hayden and I are sweatdropping in the background here. Jefferson insulting Hamilton is nothing new, but insulting him unknowingly is.

"Well, people call me Ham sometimes," Hamilton says slowly, as if he's picking his words very carefully.

"But I wouldn't kill you! You're my friend!" Burr exclaims. He doesn't look much like a murderer. Just a burr-ito. Oh, you better believe I'm going to milk the "Burr-ito" joke for all it's worth.

"Maybe, but Hamilton is annoying, from what I know of him so far. I will fully forgive you if it's him you murdered," Jefferson grins. Hamilton scowls back at him.

"Mr. Jefferson, that is not reassuring in the slightest." Burr deadpans. "Besides, we, uh, still don't completely know that it's Hamilton yet," he finishes unsurely, fidgeting with one of his blankets.

"Yeah, uh," Hanna whips her head around to stare at me so fast that she gets a whole bunch of hair in her mouth.

"Ppphtpspttssppp, hair in mouf, ahhh," She whines, making random noises as she tries to pick the hair out of her mouth. "Gross, when is the last time I washed this?"

Hayden rolls his eyes. "You tell me. But, I'm assuming it's been at least a month."

"That's reasonable."

"Well, uh, anyway," I speak up, trying to continue after Hanna's weird distraction. "The person who Burr shot is-"

And, of course, a person none other than Hanna slaps her hand against my mouth. Because I'm an idiot, I lick her hand to make her let go and immediately regret it.

"Oh, gross, Chris." She says, wiping her hand off on her pants. "Also kinda kinky, not gonna lie." Hayden pushes her over before she can continue.

"You think it's gross? Your hand tastes like sweat and dirt and shit. When's the last time you washed it?"

"I dunno, I don't keep track."

"This is getting ridiculous." Hayden sighs. "Burr shot Hamilton."

Hanna makes an effort to try to stop him from saying it, but she trips and falls on her face.

"Tie your shoes," Hayden reminds her fallen corpse.

"Oh, ya don't say?" Hanna remarks sarcastically. "Thank you for warning me, I might've tripped."

"I... shot Hamilton?" Burr asks haltingly. "But, we're friends! He'd never do anything to make me want to shoot him, aside from taking too much. But I wouldn't shoot him for talking too much, I shot him for ruining my life. Hamilton ruined my life. On purpose. And I shot him. Oh god-" The burr-ito promptly just sort of rambled quietly to himself. It's weird, though, because he's supposed to be the guy who's chill, quiet, opinionless. Hamilton's the rambler.

Because I'm a good human being, I push the entire Hamilsquad to go comfort Burr because I'm too antisocial and weird to know how to talk to people.

  * OOOOOOOHHHHHHH WHATS THIS ITS A TIME SKIP FOR A FEW HOURS BECAUSE YOUR AUTHOR IS LAZY - 



So, Burr's chill now. Hamilton immediately forgave him because he felt bad and it's not like Burr had even done it yet anyway. However, we have a new task to tackle.

The not-so-wonderful things known as work and school. All three of us always have Sundays off because we wanted to have a day of the week where we could all chill together. Unfortunately, at least one of us is busy on the other days of the week. I have college and then my part-time job at 7/11, Hayden has Walmart, and Hanna has high school.

But we've devised a plan.

I lay the giant blueprint map thing out on the table and throw some pencils and stuff on top for no reason other than aesthetics.

I crack my knuckles. Hanna pulls her hair into a ponytail. Hayden carefully sharpens a pencil.

"Okay, so Hayden only works nights, so he can come during the day. Hanna can take over in the evening, and I'll supervise them at night because it's my house anyway," I explain.

"Brilliant." Hayden gives me a thumbs up.

"Works for me." Hanna shrugs. There's an awkward silence. "Wait, we didn't need any of this at all, did we?"

"Yeah, why do we have blueprints? Isn't that more for infiltrating secret military bases?" Hayden asks, swiping some pencil shavings off some of the papers.

"Who said that's not what we're doing?" Hanna asks.

"Everyone," Washington replies.

"Just because we didn't say that's what we're doing doesn't mean we said that's not what we're doing."

"Wait, that sentence makes no sense." Hayden squints as if the sentence is laid out before him.

"No, it makes perfect sense! Even used proper grammar for once."

"One of us should clean this up," Seabury mentions out of the blue.

Silence. And then-

"NOT IT!"

Chaos induces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do yall remember the war that often raged in elementary school because of noes-goes?
> 
> did i spell that right
> 
> also don't ask about the weird valentines day chapter previous to this because i have no idea. i might've legit made a real one shot but i just remembered i wanted to so a valentines day thing like 10 mins before midnight and so that chapter was the result
> 
> OH AND GUESS WHAT
> 
> we had a substitute in english today and he said "Ladies, gentlemen, and others"
> 
> he said the old man version of "guys, gals, and non-binary pals" so he's my new favorite sub
> 
> so inclusive tho i'm still so happy about it
> 
> but thats all
> 
> til next time, yall!


	10. The Office

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a sleepover, bitches.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sup

So, everyone is going to stay the night at my house. Even Hanna and Hayden are because I can't supervise these adult children all by myself. Of course, they can't stay every night, which means that I will be mostly alone in my babysitting struggles.

I own a lot of blankets, so sleeping and stuff won't be a problem. I have at least forty because when I pass by a super fluffy blanket in Walmart, it's pretty much my weird ritual to buy it.

Everyone watches in awe as I pull every blanket I own out of my famous Blanket Closet.

"Alright. Choose a blanket, children." I watch as they all shuffle over to the blanket pile to snatch one. "Take more than one. There are loads."

"So, how are we going to go about this?" Hayden asks, his head resting in his hand, which is making this finger gun thing, kind of like that one smart, chill character with glasses from every anime that has existed ever. (Specifically Ouran Host Club, which I am STILL waiting on a second season for)

"Why don't we just all throw the blankets on the floor and sleep there?" Hanna suggests, tossing her blankets onto the floor and collapsing into the mini blanket pile.

"Sure. It's not like I have fifty inflatable mattresses hidden in a closet somewhere, so this will work, I guess." I pause, considering it. "Although, my back's going to hurt like hell after this."

"You an old man or something?" Hanna teases, standing up and elbowing me lightly.

"Shuddup." I shove her, and she stumbles onto the heap of blankets that's grown increasingly over the thirty seconds that's passed.

"You're mean!"

"You're meaner."

"No, I'm not!"

"You called me an old man."

"I said it lovingly!"

"You said it meaningly."

"Meaningly is the adverb form of meaning, so you're just telling her she was being meaningful," Hayden interjects, really adding to his smart anime guy aura.

"She was being meaningful in a mean way!"

"Okay, if I hear the word 'mean' one more time, I swear I will explode." Hayden sighs and rubs his temples. "That word has lost it's meaning."

"Ha,  _ mean _ -ing." I laugh, sitting down next to Hanna.

"Pun not intended."

"Well, puns aside, we still have some daylight to burn-" Hayden cuts me off.

"It's night."

"Right. We still have some nightlight to burn, so let's do something," I correct myself.

"Terrible word choice." Hayden shakes his head at me.

"Well, I don't wanna go anywhere. I'm tired." Hanna whines, flopping over and burying her face in one of the blankets.

"Oooh, we should watch The Office," I suggest. Hanna perks up.

"YAASSSS KWEEN WE ARE SO WATCHING THE OFFICE." She zooms out of the room, returning with several bowls of popcorn. Some of it spills out of the sides because she's running super fast.

Hayden turns on the T.V., which everyone reacts strongly to.

"EVIL GLOWING BOX."

"ABORT ABORT ABORT"

"Oooh, it makes noise!"

"WHY IS THIS HAPPENING?"

"I've seen weirder."

"SILENCE, PEASANTS!" Hanna stands up once again, throwing her arms out dramatically. "THE MAGIC GLOWING BOX IS A T.V. AND WE'RE GONNA WATCH A SHOW ON IT." She sits back down.

"Wait, so you can watch an actual show through the magic glowing box?" Jefferson asks.

"That's literally what I just said." Hanna deadpans. "Anyway, shove some popcorn in your mouth and shut up, because it's starting."

"This is popcorn?" Madison asks, hesitantly picking a piece up from one of the bowls that Hanna brought in. "It's so... puffy."

"It's supposed to be. Try it, it's good." Hayden encourages him by shoving an entire handful of popcorn into his own mouth. Madison slowly munches on a single piece of popcorn. His eyes light up, and he quickly grabs a whole bunch and throws them in Jefferson's face.

"What was that for?"

"You were supposed to eat them."

"Well, now I can't. They're all dirty."

"They are not dirty."

"Yeah, they are! They've touched the floor!"

"They've touched the blanket."

"Same difference."

"Not really."

"Oh, for the love of Creed Bratton, just eat the popcorn and shut up already. The show's started." Hanna scolds both of them.

_ "All right Jim, your quarterlies look very good. How is the thing going at the library?"  _ Says Michael Scott on the T.V. to Jim. I haven't binged this in a while, so this will be fun.

"Oh, it's like real life, except glowing and in a rectangle!" Laurens says in awe.

"Fascinating," Lafayette says in his french fry accent, agreeing with the turtle boy.

  * ye olde time skip because there's no way I'm gonna write the full like twelve hours they spent binging the office -



6:30 a.m.

(a.k.a. the HOUR OF INEVITABLE DEATHHHHH)

_ beep beep beep beep beep beep beep _

The evil, disgusting sound of utmost horror penetrates my ears, blocking out the wonderful sound of The Office.

"HANNA WHY THE FUCK DID YOU BRING YOUR ALARM CLOCK WE'RE TRYNA WATCH THE OFFICE," I scream at my dearest, Hanna. 

Appropriately, Hayden takes a hammer to the alarm clock. I don't know where he got it, but I'm grateful nonetheless.

"Hayden, that was my favorite alarm clock!"

Hayden pauses his destruction. "How many alarm clocks do you have?"

"None, thanks to you."

"Eh, alarm clocks are overrated. You just have to wake up already thirty minutes late and then run down the street to catch the bus in your pajamas while simultaneously brushing your teeth, dipping your toothbrush in coffee and eating toast," I suggest. "This is speaking from personal experience, by the way."

"Toothpaste and coffee do not sound like a good mix," Lafayette, who is one of the few people still awake and watching the show, remarks.

I shudder. Bad memories.

"Couldn't you, like, set an alarm on your phone?" Hayden suggests.

"Probably." I stare off into the distance. "I didn't choose the thug life, the thug life chose me," I say in a gruff, southern cowboy voice.

"Wonderful. Why are we awake again?" Hanna asks, yawning and laying back down.

"Alarm clock. Evil. Thug life. Death before dishonor." I remind her.

"Mmm, alarm clock." She nods. "Alarm clock... OH SHIT ALARM CLOCK."

"Yes, we've established that. Would you like me to host the funeral?" I ask solemnly, glancing at the mutilated alarm clock that's crumpled on the floor. It was only doing its job.

"NO I MEAN, I GOTTA GO TA SCHOOL BITCH!"

"Oh shit, I forgot you were still a young child."

"I'M EIGHTEEN, AN ADULT, I WAS HELD BACK JUNIOR YEAR, YOU'RE ONLY ONE YEAR OLDER THAN ME." She screeches. She stands up, stumbles over a few of the sleeping people, and pulls her shoes on.

"You're not even going to put on socks?" I ask teasingly. She flips me off as she grabs her backpack and runs out the door.

I shake my head as the door slams shut behind her.

"Didn't even brush her teeth."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i would've posted this sooner but i was watching youtube and procrastinating


	11. Just a Little Stroll

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> idk read the title

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guess what i put some les mis references in there bc yeah
> 
> sorry im a day late i was watching thomas sanders and being generally lazy
> 
> this chappy boy is around 1200 words i think
> 
> i didn't edit this so pls point out any spelling or grammar mistakes if u see them. pls be that guy

"Wait, I thought you went to college?" Hayden comments, not taking a moment to look at me as he is still absorbed in the world of Dunder Mifflin.

"Yeah, but I'm only taking the Tuesday and Thursday classes, and they're all in the afternoon anyway," I reply.

"Wait, so I don't even have to be here? The schedule had me be here because you wouldn't be."

"Do you want to leave?"

"...no."

I guess The Office tends to do that to people. I've lost track of how long it's been since Hanna left to go to the place that we all commonly refer to as Hell on Earth. I think everyone quite likes The Office, despite there being a whole bunch of pop culture references that they don't get.

"So, when is Hanna going to be back?" Peggy asks. She's lying upside-down on the couch, her hair cascading off the side and touching the floor.

"Pretty soon."

Just then, Hanna bursts through the door, looking even more tired and angry than she was when she left. Her hair looks messier and her eyebags deeper, and she's fuming about something, which isn't too uncommon for her.

"Oh my god, you will not BELIEVE what the other Hannah said." She storms through the kitchen, flings her backpack carelessly across the room, and topples onto the couch. Her bag hits Jefferson in the face. He cries and slumps over, hugging Madison, who is so conveniently sitting next to him.

Classic.

"Ooooh, spill the tea, sis!" Hayden chirps, laying on his stomach with his head in his hands, his legs kicking slightly back and forth like a teenage girl at a slumber party.

"So, like, she compared Hamilton to High School Musical," Hanna whines, placing the back of her hand on her forehead to express her displeasure. Hayden deflates a little.

"Awww, I thought you were going to have some  _ real _ gossip." He sits back up. "And High School Musical wasn't _ horrible _ . Sure, it's not a good movie to use as a point of reference for all musicals, but it was dumb in a good way!"

"It was cringy," Hanna replies curtly. She heads over to the fridge and grabs a can of soda. She pops it open and sits back down. "I still can't fucking believe I have to go to school. I'm an adult. I wanna be free."

"Drop outta school and become a stripper. No harm in that," I suggest, turning my back to Hanna and directing my focus to the T.V.

"That's not a bad idea. No college debt, steady income," Hanna remarks thoughtfully.

"I hope you know I meant that as a joke," I say cautiously, glimpsing back at her.

"Sure, sure. What are we going to do today?" Hanna asks.

"I was thinking of watching a musical."

Hanna's eyes light up. "Hamilton?"

"Nope."

She gasps dramatically, placing her hand on her chest. "How dare you?"

"Don't worry, we'll watch it later. I want to show Les Mis to Lafayette."

"Why?"

"French history, dumbass."

"But it's so depressing! The name literally means 'The Miserable Ones,'" Hanna whines.

"My house, my rules. We're watching Les Mis."

Hanna sighs. "Alright, fine." She stands up to address the crowd. "Although, I want to warn y'all that this is major depresso vibes. Don't say I didn't tell ya," she warns. She looks around, and then sits back down, convinced that she's made her point.

"Alright. It's starting y'all. Prepare yo selves."

-2 hours and 37 minutes later-

Okay, so everyone's silently crying. Some are crying not-so-silently. A good example is Lafayette, who is sobbing loudly into his hands. Hercules is awkwardly patting his back.

"Do you hear the people sing~" Hamilton and Laurens sing softly while hugging each other. I have to say, they seemed to quite enjoy all of the revolution songs.

"I heavily regret letting you make us watch Les Mis," Hanna says quietly, patting Peggy on the head.

The king seems to be the least disturbed out of us all. He's humming "Master of the House" quietly to himself.

The credits roll and Hayden stands up to turn off the T.V.

"Well, that was wonderful, but what are we going to do now?"

"Oooh, maybe we could go for a walk around NYC. They can look around, get to know the place. We could get coffee," I suggest.

"I'm in for coffee." Hanna laughs.

-Le time skip of like 5 minutes because I'm bad at transitions-

"Alright, so where to first?" Hanna asks, making her way to Hayden's mom van.

"Nope," he says abruptly, pulling Hanna back by the hood on her sweatshirt.

"Huh?"

"We're walking." Hayden deadpans. Hanna's once somewhat lively face paled.

"Oh god, you're going to..." She makes vomiting noises. "You're going to  _ force _ me to exercise?"

"Oh, don't be so overdramatic. We're just going to stop by a coffee shop. Maybe a few landmarks, too. We'll see." 

"Landmarks?"

Hayden shrugs. "I dunno, art museums? We have a couple of those. There's the Empire State Building. Statue of Liberty," he counts them off on his fingers, gazing upwards a bit.

Hanna sighs. "Eh, Corona's gonna kill us anyway, might as well have some fun before out inevitable deaths."

"Who's Corona?" Washington asks. He seems understandably concerned. I suppose we did sort of portray the Coronavirus as some sort of serial killer or something. Not that it isn't.

"Ah, just a virus," Hanna replies dismissively.

We've started to walk. There's a Dunkin' Donuts a couple blocks away from here. After walking for a few minutes, Hanna pipes up all of a sudden.

"Alright, so do y'all remember when you met those two guys at Walmart and they thought you were broadway stars?" She asks. Ah yes, I remember both Hayden and Hanna mentioned that their groups had encountered the two dudes, too. Man, those guys were having a lucky day.

"Yeah? Are they here again?" Peggy asks, folding her arms nervously.

"Uh, no, but remember that you guys look like  _ very _ famous people, so, um, you're still bound to attract attention." She pauses. "Especially considering  _ someone _ still won't take off the dumb king costume."

King George looks offended. " _ Excuse _ me, this is  _ not _ a costume, it is an incredible outfit superior to yours!"

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, buddy." Hanna grimaces and pats his arm. He pulls it away in disgust. "Anyway, my main point is, we have company. There is a  _ big _ group of Hamilfans straight ahead."

I look and, sure enough, a large group of people is walking casually, many of them wearing Hamilton merch, like sweatshirts and beanies with the golden Hamilton logo on them.

"Ah, I see them. C'mon, duck into the shady alley over here. They haven't caught onto our scent yet."

We all manage to dash into the narrow alleyway before the group sees us. I hold my breath as they walk past, chattering about, you guessed it, Hamilton.

"Alright, we seem to be okay, so let's just-" Hayden stops abruptly mid-sentence.

"What? There a spooky shadow demon?" Hanna teases.

"Don't think so, but I could've sworn I saw something," he says quietly, still staring a little bit past one of the dumpsters in the alleyway. Speaking of which, it smells like something died in here. Granted, something probably did.

Just as we're turning away to leave, however, two little children covered head-to-toe in dirt step out from behind the dumpster.

"I-I'm Philip, and this is Theodosia."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ._.


	12. Philip and Theodosia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The wonderful unedited chapter that the author made in a hurry because she's completely lazy and hasn't updated in like 2 or 3 weeks and feels bad.
> 
> But lots of Philip and Theodosia!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so so so so so so so so so so so so so sorry yall

'Kay, so  _ crazy _ shit's goin' on. Crazy. Shit. First off, there's a very smol Anthony Ramos and a girl who I don't recognize. They might be like eight or something, but they're skinny and covered in like six layers of dirt, so it's kinda hard to tell.

"Dad?" Philip said quietly, staring right at Alexander.

Oh wait, Alex doesn't know of Philip's existence yet, does he? He knows that Eliza was pregnant, but he came from right before the Battle of Yorktown. So like, Philip knows Alex really well, but Alex doesn't know Philip.

Shit, dude.

Alex, naturally, is confused. Then, the realization makes itself apparent.

"Are you my son?"

Yeah, no shit, Sherlock. Anyway, Philip seems heartbroken. It's a natural thing, really, when your dad doesn't recognize you. 

"Uh, yeah. Why aren't you old?" Ah, there's the adolescent charm. I guess he isn't torn about the whole thing as I originally thought he was. He appears relieved that we found him, at least.

Hamilton, a bit shocked at Philip's innocent little self, bursts out laughing. The laughter is infectious, spreading to everyone. Even King George hides a little chuckle behind his fist.

"Okay, you're a hilarious little jerk, but who's your friend?" Hamilton asks, his tone turning gentler near the end.

"I already told you," Philip responded sassily, seeming a bit annoyed. "This is Theodosia Burr."

"Burr?" None other than Aaron asks.

"Yep."

Before Aaron can react in any way, Jefferson makes a weird whooping sound.

"AWWWW, Aaron, you have a kid!" he exclaims flamboyantly, giving Burr a side hug. "She's so cute!"

"Yeah." Aaron smiles. "Yeah, she is."

"Oh, but Aaron," Lafayette smiles mischievously. He goes over to Aaron and puts his arm around him. "The question simply _ must _ be asked."

Laurens and Mulligan come over to go bother Aaron too. They sort of just stand really close to him and smile weirdly.

"Who is the mother?" Lafayette asks.

Everyone loses their shit, aside from Aaron, who's staring blankly at the wall, and Washington, who is just making a dad face.

Philip and Theodosia, of course, are standing next to each other and watching the chaos unfold. Hayden pulls chocolate out of his shirt pocket and gives it to them.

"Oh, I've heard of this!" Philip says, sniffing it. "It's chocolate, isn't it? I thought this was quite hard to get." He does his best to break off a piece and gives it to Theo.

"Not anymore. Do you know where we are?"

Philip shook his head. "Not exactly. I know that it's very loud and smells like smoke and people aren't very nice."

Hayden nodded. "You're in the future. Chocolate is made in lots of places now, which is why it was no trouble to give it to you. Go ahead and try it, it's really good."

Philip nodded slowly and bit off a bit. His eyes lit up, and he devoured the rest whole. Theodosia did the same. She wiped off her mouth and then glared teasingly at Philip. "That isn't fair, you got more than me."

"Did not."

"Did too."

Theodosia stuck her tongue out at him, and then directed her attention to all the people that were losing their shit and trying to convince Burr to tell them the mother of his child.

"Alright, you deranged bastards, my mom is Theodosia," she yelled, cupping her hands on either side of her mouth to try to amplify the noise.

Philip gasped. "Theo, you just said a bad word."

"It's called having a superior vocabulary. Get on my level, nerd."

"What does that mean?"

"Having a superior vocabulary?"

"No, you said 'get on my level, nerd.'"

"Oh, I just heard a few girls saying that as they were walking by," Theo answered, seeming very proud.

"Okay, Burr, did you teach your child to swear?" Hamilton asks, smiling nonetheless.

"Bastard isn't a swear word, it means illegitimate child," Burr corrected. "And how am I supposed to know what I taught my child, she wasn't even born in 1781."

"1783!" Theodosia smiled.

"Wait a minute, 'bastard' is definitely a swear word," Laurens interjected.

"Yes, exactly!" Hamilton nodded and put his arm around Laurens.

"Y'know, bastard is used in Australia the same as we use the word 'dude' or 'bro,'" Hayden said.

"We aren't in oz, ye ignorant bastard," Hanna asked, stomping on the back of Hayden's foot.

"That was a Scottish accent. Australian is more like..." I paused to let the Australian resonate within me. "Yayh, Oy hahve a kuyngaroo and a boomahuyng, mate. Hugh Jackman."

"That's seriously so stereotypical."

"Can you do any better?"

Hanna paused, as she most definitely could not do better. I am always superior when it comes to Australian accents.

"Okay, while I love arguing about accents and the use of the word bastard, perhaps we shouldn't be doing it in a shady alleyway?" Washington, always the voice of reason, suggests.

"Yeah, maybe you're right. We should probably leave before some guy in a trenchcoat and a fedora that conveniently shadows his eyes comes to sell us watches," Hanna says, nodding in agreement.

"Oddly specific, but okay." Hercules shrugs and begins to follow the rest of us out of the shady alleyway. "What's a watch? Is it like a spy?"

Hayden shakes his head and pulls up his sleeve, revealing his watch which he just so happens to be conveniently wearing. "A bit like a pocket watch, except on your wrist."

We're walking down the street now. Many of the men still sometimes jump when a car rushes by (usually over the speed limit, because most people don't look at their speedometers that much anyway), or when the occasional person screams into their phone or whatever. New York's a busy place.

However, Philip and Theodosia seem mostly unfazed. Judging by their skinniness, messy hair, and unpleasant smell, they probably had been here longer than the rest of the guys (and Peggy).

Hanna, conveniently, seems to have been thinking the same thing. "So, chirren, how long 'ave you been here?"

Theodosia looks up and counts on her fingers mouthing the numbers as she does, and Philip puts his hand in his chin and makes a little  _ hmmm _ noise. After a few seconds, Philip snaps his fingers and looks up. "Around fifteen or so days, I'd say."

Theodosia, along with everyone else, gapes at him, although the rest of them do it in a more worried manner, Theo in a not-so-pleasantly surprised one. "Oh, has it been that long?"

Philip nods. "Yeah, remember-" he pauses. "Wait, what day is today?"

Hanna pulls out her phone. "Uh, March twenty."

"Right, okay, so when we got here, we saw the newspaper this guy was selling, and the date was, umm." He snaps his fingers repeatedly. "Theo, help me out here."

"March third."

"Right, March third. So it's been-"

"Eighteen days."

Philip gives her a weird look. "No, seventeen."

"Nuh-uh."

"Yuh-huh. Twenty minus three is seventeen."

"Yeah, but you're not counting March third."

"I am! I said March third."

We've stopped walking now. Don't mind us, random passerby, just a group of worried adults standing around two verbally fighting children. Nothing to see here.

"Yeah, I know you said March third but, like-" She stops talking and puts both of her hands out, palms facing him. "Okay, Philip. Each finger represents one day."

"Then there would only be ten days."

"No, just..." She makes her hands into fists and sticks up her pointer finger. "Okay, so this is March third." She keeps going up and counting on her fingers. "See, now we're on March twentieth, and how many fingers do I have up?"

"Eight."

"Right, and I already passed ten, so how many days passed by?"

Philip makes a little "Ohhhhhh" noise. Theo puts her hands back down, smiling.

"Ohhh, I am so dumb." Philip groans, putting his face in his hands. Theo laughs and pats him on the back.

"Alright, so where were we going?" She asks, turning to Hanna.

"I don't know, where  _ were  _ we going?" She asks, turning to me.

"No idea, we just walked out of the alleyway to avoid drug dealers. I remember we originally set out to get food, though."

"FOOD?" Philip and Theodosia both exclaim in unison. They're wide-eyed and smiling in disbelief.

"When was the last time you ate?" Hamilton asks worriedly like the concerned father he is. Burr nods, standing next to him.

Philip and Theodosia look at each other, still wide-eyed but not smiling anymore. 

"Uhhhh..." Philip starts. He turns to Theo and whispers, "You think that those moldy bagels could be counted?"

Burr screams and Hamilton faints into John's arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEYYYY I FINALLY UPDATED REJOICE YALLLL
> 
> I PROMISE THE NEXT UPDATE WONT TAKE 3 WEEKS
> 
> DONT DIE FROM THE CORONAVIRUS PLSSS
> 
> but like seriously i got off school cause of COVID-19 so i might be able to update sooner but dont get your hopes up tho because im a major procrastinator


	13. Hanna Screams In A Restaurant But We Somehow Don't Get Kicked Out Because The Restaurant Staff Is Tired And Doesn't Care (By Fallout Boy)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> f e e d t h e m .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEYY I POSTED THIS CHAPTER KIND OF EARLY BECAUSE THE LAST ONE TOOK WAY TO LONG AND I FEEL BAD
> 
> YEAH I KNOW IM AWESOME, HOLD YOUR APPLAUSE

So, a few weeks ago, I was babysitting my younger cousins. They, being seven years old or something, eat either very, very fast or very, very slow. 

Of course, it entirely depends on the food. Sometimes it takes my cousins 20 minutes to eat a single piece of broccoli. One time, though, one of them emptied a bowl of ice cream in like two minutes flat. She immediately got a brain freeze, but then she began singing "Freeze Your Brain" from Heathers (Not sure why a nine-year-old would know that), and I guess that healed her.

But not even she could compare to the speed at which Philip and Theodosia are shoveling bucketfuls of food into their mouths. The closest restaurant we could find is this place that sells sandwiches, salad, stuff like that.

Have you ever seen that survival show where once the participants finish, they get on the boat there's this buffet thing, and they usually scarf down everything within their line of sight? It's a bit like that.

"Hey. Did you hear that after eating hardly anything for a while, if you eat a whole bunch, it disrupts your stomach and you just straight up die?" Hayden questions nonchalantly, staring off into space and leaning on his closed fist thoughtfully.

Philip slowly opens his mouth, and gobs of half-chewed food and stuff just kind of spill onto his plate.

"Pip, that's disgusting," Theo groans, making a face of disgust and putting her hand over her mouth, glancing warily back at him.

"I don't wanna die!" He whines back at her.

"Just go throw away that crap." She gestures at the half-chewed food on his plate. "Ya nasty gremlin."

Philip jumps down from the barstool he was sitting at and scrapes the mush into a garbage can. He makes sure to stick his tongue out at Theodosia before he sits back down.

"Theo, I'm still hungry," he says, sighing as he plops down onto the stool again and spins around slowly. Jefferson is doing this, too. Twirling on the chair, not spitting up mouthfuls of food. Except, Jefferson is spinning  _ fast _ . It's a miracle he hasn't fallen off yet.

"Well, you can't have my food," she says, scooting over a bit and sliding her plate with her.

Jefferson, being himself, butts into their conversation by saying the following:

"Heyyyyyyy, did you know that I invented these?" he asks as he spins in circles, slowing down only to push his feet off the ground to propel himself more. His voice isn't shaky, necessarily, but it moves up and down as he twirls.

"Five bucks says he's going to throw up," Herc says, leaning over to Lafayette. Hercules is sitting closest to the wall, right next to the rest of the Hamilsquad.

"Why do you keep betting? You don't have any money or a steady income," Lafayette answers, not taking his eyes off of the blur that is the incredible, intelligent, inventive, President Thomas Jefferson, who just fell off the chair.

Madison sighs and helps him back up. Jefferson thanks him and goes right back to spinning.

"Okay, I'll bet you the rest of your fries that Jefferson will fall off at least two more times," Hercules whispers, leaning towards Lafayette again.

"Oh-ho, I like those odds." Hanna and I had taught both of them how to do a fist bump on the way to this restaurant, so Herc and Laf did that instead of shaking hands.

Meanwhile, I think the Georges are playing some form of Chinese fingers. Speaking of the king, we had managed to convince him to wear a normal outfit, although he's still wearing a crown because he insisted. Of course, we had to assure him that the clothes he's wearing are what British royalty wear in modern times.

It's a pink polo shirt with leggings, and he is rocking it. Wait, King George just won the Chinese fingers game, so that's wonderful. Seabury slides across the floor to give him a fries for a reward.

Washington asks for a rematch because fries are awesome and winning them after challenging your kind-of enemy to a Chinese fingers duel to the death is even more rewarding.

Peggy is chatting with Madison and Burr. I'm not entirely sure what the subject of their conversation is, but at one point they were all laughing so hard for like twenty seconds that Madison choked on his food and almost died. I'd say that it's a good thing that they're getting along, except it's an obvious risk to Madison's heath (hence the choking).

I'm still happy they're hanging out and laughing and stuff. Well, unless they've devised an evil plan and are going to slit everyone's throat in the middle of the night. It's a wild theory. Pretty out there, I know, but if you had heard their laughter, you'd agree.

That leaves Seabury, Laurens, and Hamilton. Seabury is talking with Hayden about potatoes. I'm not sure if potatoes are the only thing that they're talking about, but I've heard them mention it like fifteen times, so it has to be a relevant topic. Oh, and cheese. They said that word seven times, but who's counting?

Me. I'm counting. Pathetic, I know. And narrating that makes me feel like a cringy television host, so I'm going to stop that now.

Laurens and Hamilton are making out in a corner. (Just kidding, just kidding. Tricked ya. *finger guns* hahaha)

Laurens and Hamilton are talking about the revolution, which isn't at all surprising. Laurens has complimented Hamilton's existence despite the conversation topic way more times than should be considered normal. From admiring his new hair to telling him how smart he is, he's thought of it all.

I am eternally confused as to why Laurens hasn't fallen to his knees and proclaimed his love for Hamilton yet. Oh, and proposed. I'm surprised he hasn't proposed by now. Of course, he couldn't afford a ring. So that's a problem.

But, as you may know, the answer to every problem that involves not being able to afford something is Hayden. The problem with  _ that _ is that Hayden has been the answer to so many of my and Hanna's money problems that he's probably going to run out of money at some point.

Hayden doesn't have a job. He got all of his money when he was really little. His parents had invested in some sort of major company and, as a result, were insanely rich. Unfortunately, they died, kind of like the parents from "A Series of Unfortunate Events", except I'm pretty sure it wasn't a fire.

Hayden doesn't like talking about his parents, so Hanna and I never found out how exactly they died. We have ruled out them dying from a house fire, though, because two rich investors dying some horrific death like that would've at least been some form of a news story.

They weren't exactly famous, but one time there was a news story on a police officer buying a homeless guy a pair of shoes (which was heartwarming, by the way), so it's safe to assume that a house fire would've made the news.

So yeah, he inherited his parents' money (somewhere around $800,000). So there he was. A rich, blonde, British, fifteen-year-old orphan. Poor kid. I don't know how much he's spent, but he still has lots of money, and that's where we're at right now. You'd think he'd want to hold onto it because it's pretty much what remains of his parents, but he's always seemed eager to get rid of it.

"HEY FUCKHEAD." Hanna, who always loves interrupting good retellings of tragic backstories, screams at a level that should not be allowed in a restaurant. "WATCH THIS."

Uh oh.

She's standing next to Jefferson and holding a bottle of coke. It's almost filled to the brim, so it's safe to assume she hasn't drunk any yet. Hopefully, she's just going to chug the entire thing and not accidentally hurt herself.

"IMMA SMASH THIS BOTTLE THINGY WITH MY FOREHEAD."

Luckily, I am there to heroically slide across the table and yank the bottle out of her hands before glass shards get stuck in her brain and make her even more of an absolute dumbass.

"Aww, come on, that was gonna be badass," she whines, falling back down into her chair.

"No, that was going to be dumbass. I just said it in my internal dialogue," I counter, sitting down next to her and chugging like half of her soda.

"Internal dialogue? Have you described my hair as majestic at least once?" she asks. "Because you looooovvveeee me?"

"For someone with migraines, you're awfully loud." I scoot my chair over so that I'm farther from her.

"Stop dodging the question." She smirks annoyingly at me.

"Yeah, I called your hair majestic when you punched Jefferson."

"I meant the love question and you know it."

"I didn't, actually."

"You don't love me or you didn't know which question to answer?"

I push her off her stool thingy. She falls to the floor, almost completely in sync with Jefferson doing the same.

"HA. Give me your fries, Laf." Hercules steals Lafayette's plate before he had the chance to give it to him. I guess Jefferson fell again at the same time as the narration of Hayden's backstory.

"Say it," Hanna says, still sitting on the floor where she fell.

"You already know the answer."

"Not unless you tell me."

I sigh. "I love you, ya little demon."

"Yayyy," she says from the floor, giving me a thumbs up. "Took you long enough."

She stands up, brushes herself off, and claps to get the attention of everyone.

"Alright, we should probably leave. I'm getting some seriously weird looks from this one Karen." she pauses to gesture at a lady who's sitting next to a window with her three kids and a tiny dog in her purse. I think that it's Janice. "Plus, if Jefferson falls down one more time we'll probably be escorted off the premises anyway, and I don't want to be banned because this place has some seriously good food."

Hayden pays the check, and we all walk out of the bar. Jefferson is extremely dizzy from all the spinning and he falls on his face again. 

Unfortunately, Laurens doesn't fall on his knees and proclaim his love for Hamilton, so I'll have to just awkwardly end this chapter right now, even though it isn't a cliffhanger or even a remotely interesting chapter ending.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welp that happened. i actually kind of liked this chapter even though my writing style is inconsistent and weird still
> 
> but yeah since jefferson invented the swivel chair i decided to make him spinning on one a very important element to this chapter
> 
> OH BTW I ACTUALLY EDITED THIS CHAPTER SO THATS COOL


	14. Hayden's House (Reprise)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wow we're at Hayden's house again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok this chapter was kind of rushed because I spent my entire spring break watching tv and i completely forgot about this
> 
> so be warned, there's gonna be some spelling errors
> 
> plus there's an entire long conversation explaining what bootlegs are for some reason
> 
> idk this one wasn't very funny really and i kind of hate it
> 
> so sorry in advance XD

"So, this is what houses look like now?" Philip asks, looking around Hayden's living room. We would've gone to my place, but we realized that Hayden has more living space to accommodate everyone.

Everyone probably would've just stayed at his place instead of mine (for the long haul, not just a sleepover or whatever).

However, he's the only one of us that can endure swimming in cat hair and smelling that weird cat poop fume that always seems to linger until he empties an entire bottle of Febreeze trying to get rid of it.

"Well, kind of, but not really." Hayden drops down to his knees to try and coax Aaron Purr to come nearer. "Most houses don't have as much cat stuff."

Theo nudges a puffball on a string that's hanging down from one of the cat castle things. "What even is this thing?"

Jefferson is now on his back, holding one of the calico cats up above him and making kissing noises at it. "They're for the cats' entertainment, I think."

Washingdad bends over a little to let one of the cats sniff his hand.

"Anyway, do you guys want to watch something?" Hayden asks, plopping down on the couch and picking up the remote.

"What do you mean, are we watching cats fight or-" Philip stops and gapes at the T.V., which Hayden has just turned on.

I snap my fingers. "Ohhh, we haven't told Philip and Theo about the whole technology thing."

"What do you mean, technolog-" Theo, having just stepped into the room, stares at the T.V. in awe, similar to Philip. "What?"

"Alright, so you two have seen plays and stuff before, right?" I ask, sitting on the couch next to Hayden. They both nod. "Okay, so it's like that, but you can watch it from the rectangle hanging on the wall right here."

Hayden has more furniture than me, so most of us actually can sit on the couch. A couple of people sit on the floor or pillows. 

Jefferson, being unnecessarily extra, lies seductively on the coffee table (we're talkin' the "draw me like one of your french girls" pose) until Hamilton pushes him off. However, he's not giving up. He goes in the same position on the top of the couch, but he falls backward and gets stuck between the couch and the wall for like fifteen minutes. After being freed, he sits on the rug next to Madison instead. The delay was because Hanna was making popcorn and people were too preoccupied with watching it pop.

"So, what should we watch?" Laurens asks.

"I liked the Office!" Hercules said. "It was pretty neat. Gave us a good idea of how modern offices work."

"I guarantee you, no office job is as fun as that." Hanna looks down. "Besides, should we be watching it with children?"

"Hey, we're not that young." Theo shoots back. "I'm ten, and Philip is eleven."

Philip nods and crosses his arms. "Yeah, we're really old and big."

"Like John Adams!" I'll give you three guesses as to who said that.

"Alex, don't twist the wholesome child words into another John Adams insult," Hercules says between fits of laughter.

"Okay, but what if we watch Parks and Rec?" Hanna suggests.

"How is that even remotely better, adult content-wise?" Hayden raises an eyebrow at her.

"Hayden's right. Can we binge Disney movies?"

"OH HELL YEAH!" Hanna screeches. "LET'S WATCH AVENGERS!"

"I meant, like, Mulan or Repunzel."

"Avengers belongs to Disney now. There's no use trying to fight it."

"Yeah, but I want to watch Mulan."

"Yeah, but Avengers has cooler fight scenes."

"Have you even seen the scene where the big ice thingy falls and murders like thousands of people?"

"It's not even remotely better than the fight scenes in Marvel movies," she counters, stuffing a handful of popcorn in her mouth.

"Oh, fuck you."

"You wish." She grins cheekily, her mouth still full of popcorn.

I don't even deny it. Instead, I just tell her to swallow her food.

After twenty minutes of bickering and shit, we somehow got on the topic of musicals, which caused more arguments to break out. Alex wanted to watch Hamilton, which was to be expected.

Jefferson doesn't want to watch Hamilton. He didn't even change his mind when Hanna said that he'd be in it. He said, and I quote, "Well, it isn't all completely about me and that makes it stupid."

"Did you just call the workings of Lin Manuel Miranda stupid?" Hanna asks, her eyes going dark like when an edgy anime character is leaning against a wall and is talking all spooky and stuff. 

That wasn't my best simile, I will admit.

Anyway, Jefferson apologizes immediately and raises his hands in surrender. Notice how I said surrender and not mock surrender. This is because despite being like four and a half feet tall, Hanna is very scary and more than likely capable of murder.

In the end, we settle on Heathers. It was a coin toss between that and Dear Evan Hansen. We were originally going to toss between DEH and Be More Chill, but then we realized that we don't feel like explaining what porno is to everyone.

Heathers does still have some, ahem,  _ elements _ , that aren't great for the chirren present, but we're just going to cover their ears and eyes, I guess.

To be honest, Dear Evan Hansen or Hamilton would be way more appropriate, but the coin chose Heathers, so it's decided.

After a few minutes of searching for bootlegs, Hayden finds one on some sketchy website.

"Alright, peoples, we might all get thrown in jail but it's worth it." Hayden looks off into the distance mysteriously, while simultaneously sparkling. Sparkling is sort of his thing. "-for Heathers."

"We might be imprisoned for watching this?" Washington asks worriedly. Everyone in the room seems nervous, too, except for King George. He's above the law, apparently.

"Ah, don't worry about it," Hayden reassures, waving them off. "Ready to start?"

"First, tell us why this is illegal." Hamilton crosses his arms.

"It's because recording a showing of a musical or a play or whatever without exclusive permission is illegal. Normally, you have to pay to go see it, but it's often really difficult and expensive and you usually have to wait." I pause to breathe (I'm not very used to talking a lot in one go).

"Thus, bootlegs started happening." Hanna picks up where I left off easily. "People just take out their phones and record the musical while they're there. Then, they will usually post it on a sketchy website like this or, more commonly, YouTube."

Madison nods slowly. "I see. Why don't you just buy tickets to see the musical?"

"Well, like Chris said earlier, they're expensive." Hayden shrugs.

"I thought you were rich?" Jefferson says unsurely in more of a question than a statement.

"Yeah, but I wasn't finished," Hayden responds. "They also aren't always showing, you have to wait for them to go on tour. Also, yo-"

"Can we watch it now? This entire conversation is literally so boring," Hanna cuts in before Hayden can continue his twenty-page essay about bootleg pros and cons (complete with a full list of musicals, common bootlegs, conspiracy theories, and a full description of Heather Chandler's character, for some reason.)

"Yeah, let's do that." I steal the remote from Hayden and play the musical before anyone can resist.

_ -September 1st, 1989- _

_Dear Diary..._

And so it began.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I WANT TO MAKE ONE THING CLEAR:  
> THIS AINT GONNA BE A HAMILTON REACTION FIC
> 
> buuuuuuuut if u wanna have them react to a few songs from different musicals next chappy? i might do that? if u want that to happen tho then add some suggestions in the comments
> 
> if anyone wants to do that ill probably do like 3-5 songs
> 
> BUT THAT WILL BE A ONE CHAPTER THING THO
> 
> ANYWAY I LOVE YALL PLS DON'T DIE WASH YO HANDS


End file.
